Of Pleasure and Pain
by GemmaH
Summary: When confronted with the evidence of her husband, Edward, cheating on her with her BFF, Bella sets out to deal with the turmoil he has thrown her life into. This is her story. There are ups & downs, but no promises or guarantees here. Just like real life. *Ch1 now edited from TwiKinkFest version*
1. Chapter 1

**So this story began as a one-shot for the TwiKinkFest. The further I continued the story afterwards, the more I realised that the Bella that had grown with the story would never have done the things outlined in the original one-shot. The original piece is posted in its entirety here on my account, but this version has now been edited in line with the rest of the extended story. **

**Warning****: Contains scenes of a sexual nature and infidelity. If these themes are at risk of upsetting you, please do not read on.**

**Disclaimer: Twilight and its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.**

**Of Pleasure and Pain**

_He even looks tired as he sleeps_, I think to myself as I tiptoe around the bedroom putting the clean clothes away. His boss has been working him so damn hard lately. He's never at home, and when he is, he's either working or sleeping. We've not even eaten our evening meal yet; he came upstairs to change, but apparently only got as far as taking his shoes and tie off before he surrendered to the comfort of the bed.

His cell phone lays next to him on top of the duvet. I look at it with disdain. It's actually silent for once, although I'm pretty sure that it won't remain mute for long, then he'll be up, about and stressed again. I reach over and pick it up, careful not to disturb him. I quickly switch it to silent so the sound of it doesn't rouse him if – no, when – it rings, and tiptoe from the room taking it with me. If anybody wants him, they'll have to get through _me _first. I'm determined my man will get some of the rest that I know he desperately needs, whether he admits it or not.

He's not been the same lately. He's short with me, he snipes at me, he makes me cry…and then he apologises. He's sorry, he says, he's just so tired and stressed. He doesn't know if he's coming or going, and here I am, with my simple little job. He wishes I could understand. He wishes he had _my _life.

Yeah, because it's so great being me. The company at home is scintillating; I feel so blessed.

I enter the kitchen and sigh as I plate up yet another meal I'll sit and eat alone. I've just put the plate down on the table, when his phone starts to vibrate next to it. I glance at the screen to see who's calling. No number, just 'A'. I decide I'll let it ring and check his voicemail after.

I'm putting the second forkful of pasta into my mouth, when a text comes through to say he has a voicemail. As I wait for the service to connect, I wonder if he has a pin number on his account. He doesn't.

"Edward, Baby, it's me," a girl's voice says. My heart stops, and then begins to pound. This isn't right. _Something_ isn't right. "I thought you were going to meet me tonight?" I feel sick as I rise to my feet. "I've been thinking about you all day…you, and that magnificent cock of yours." She giggles. I know that giggle. I know that voice. "I want you. Call me."

She hangs up, I fall down.

I'm trembling on the floor, too numb to feel, too confused to cry. Is this some mistake? A misunderstanding? Her words replay in my head. No. No misunderstanding, it couldn't be clearer.

But when?

_Oh, Bella, he's never here. He's always _working_. You should have known. Why didn't you know?_

I did know. I absolutely knew and _she talked me out of it. _She made me feel ridiculous for considering it. She. Made _me. _Feel guilty. Bitch. How does she sleep at night? _When she's not wrapped around my husband, that is._

I slowly get to my feet and manage to sit back down at the table. I push the plate as far away as I can reach, and then turn my attention back to the phone in my hand. Where to start? I open his text messages and scroll down the list.

Work...work…A. I stop breathing as I touch the screen and look at the conversation in front of me. He texted her last.

_**You were amazing bb. Can't wait to make you scream my name again xx**_

Bastard, bastard, bastard. I look further down.

_**Can't get out of my head what you did to me yesterday! Keep touching myself when I think about it. Thinking of you gets me so wet x**_

And further still.

_**Every time I close my eyes I see my cock sliding in and out of that tight, wet pussy of yours. You ride me so good bb x**_

Scrolling down I see more and more of the same. And then, a picture she's sent him. I was right, it _is _her, I know that butterfly tattoo above her left breast; I was with her when she got it. What I didn't know is how much my husband loves to kiss it. I know now, because it's written here. I suspect his words will now be as permanently etched onto my brain as that tattoo is onto her skin.

I press the button so they disappear from the screen and are replaced by the picture of me that adorns his screen. I look happy. It's an old photograph.

I stare into space for a moment, my knee bouncing frantically at the same speed at which my head is spinning. Looking back at the screen, I press the email icon. There, nestled amongst his work emails, is one from this afternoon. I open the oldest one first.

**Angela **angela_ to me 11.03am

I'm so bored, waiting for my next meeting. I wish you were here, you know all the best ways to kill time ;) xxx

**Edward **to Angela 11.05am

I'm hard just thinking about it, good job I have my own office. Actually, that really didn't help. All I can think of now is bending you over my desk.

**Angela **angela_ to me 11.06am

Oh God! I wish I was there, I would love you to! You think we can do that sometime? It may just have become my next fantasy. Describe it to me… xx

**Edward **to Angela 11.14am

I'd be working late, the only one left in the office. I'm getting a little restless because it's late, when there's a knock at my office door. I answer it, and there you are. You step inside and I close the door behind you. You turn around in your fuck-me shoes and slowly unbutton your raincoat. As it falls open I see that you have on a tight shirt, tiny skirt, stockings and suspenders. You stalk towards me, dropping your coat on the floor. You back me up to the door and kiss me hard. Your hands are all over me, inside my shirt at first, but then unbuttoning my pants and sliding down, inside, until you wrap your hand around my, straining, rock hard… ;)

**Angela **angela_ to me 11.15am

DON'T STOP! I can't stop squirming ;) Please, tell me more xxx

**Edward **to Angela 11.16am

What's it worth?

**Angela **angela_ to me 11.17am

Oh, come on, we both know that blow jobs are the international currency of sex. And you know how much you like it when I let you cum in my mouth ;)

**Edward **to Angela 11.18am

And we both know how much _more_ I like it when you let me cum on your face. I love a dirty girl.

I pause for a moment. I've never seen this side of Edward before. Our lovemaking has always been just that; making love. It's sweet and it's nice. As devastated as I am by this whole situation, there's a tiny part of my brain that is intrigued to know what dirty sex with Edward would be like. I carry on reading, out of some sort of sick, masochistic urge.

**Angela **angela_ to me 11.19am

Don't I know it :p. So, we have a deal, now carry on! I want to know what happens next xxx

**Edward **to Angela 11.30am

Ok, so, you're holding me in your hand, and I'm leaking all over you as you work me up and down. You're moaning into my mouth because you love the feel of me in your hand, and you're imagining how good it will be when you have me where you really want me – inside that delicious, wet pussy of yours. My hands are all over you now too. I slide a hand up your thigh to your ass to find you don't have any panties on. I can't wait any longer. I begin to push you back across the office until you bump into my desk. I spin you around, bend you over and slide my cock into you. You're calling out, telling me how fucking good it feels. I bury myself inside you over and over, and my balls slap on your ass. I grab one of your thighs and lift it to spread you wider for me, placing your knee on the desk. You want it harder, and I wrap your hair around my hand and tug your head back, making you gasp as I pound into you. You begin to cry out, calling my name as you cum once and then again, before I cum right inside you, filling you up. As I pull out of you, you turn, drop to your knees and suck my cock clean, then you stand and we kiss. Holy fuck, I'm about to cum in my pants. Are you busy tonight?

**Angela **angela_ to me 11.32am

Well I am now. What time do you want me there? I am soaking wet now, getting through the rest of the day will be hell xxx

**Edward **to Angela 11.33am

I have to go home first then I'll try and get out of the house later. I'll call you x

I press the button and set the phone back down on the table. Above my head I hear footsteps: Edward is up. I'm not sure I'm ready for the big confrontation yet; I need more time to process the information that has just rocked the foundations of my world. I get quickly to my feet, scrape the remains of my dinner into the trash and rinse my plate. I'm just putting it into the dishwasher as Edward walks in. His top buttons are undone, his shirt is creased and his hair is sticking up all over the place. He catches sight of himself in the reflection of the window cast by the kitchen light against the dark glass, and runs his fingers through his messy bronze hair. He rests against the counter and reaches for me. I'm hesitant, not sure I want the hands that have been touching another woman, to touch me. I give in and stand close, although I can't bring myself to put my hands on him, instead resting them against my own chest as his arms wrap around me.

"Are you OK?" he asks, kissing my head. "You seem tense."

"I feel a little ill," I tell him. It's not a lie.

"You should get an early night," he tells me. He strokes my hair and I wonder what it would be like for those hands to make a fist around it and pull it as he fucks me, instead of his usual gentle touch. "I have to go back to the office anyway; I just remembered something I forgot to do."

Yeah, we both know what that is now.

"Do you have to go? I'm feeling a little low. I could really use the company."

_Choose me. Choose me. _Please_ choose me._

"I'm sorry, Bella. It's important."

_So am I._ I hang my head and he cups my face, bringing it up so I'm looking into his eyes. I search for something different there, although what, I don't know. Guilt? Regret? Anything to make me feel even the slightest bit better. There's nothing; he just looks the way he always has.

"I could come with you and keep you company?"

_Please say yes. _Please _prove me wrong. _He laughs softly.

"No, I'll be fine. You get some rest; I'm just going to take a quick shower before I leave. I had a nightmare and it's left me a little sweaty."

_You had a nightmare? Baby, you don't know the meaning of the word…Oh, hang on a moment. Was that a flash of guilt? _It's brief, but I know I saw it. I wonder about his nightmare – could it be that it's the same as my reality? Now that would make for an interesting twist.

He eases me aside and leaves the room, his whole demeanor screaming awkwardness. It's so unlike him, he's usually so self-assured. Whatever the nightmare was, it's certainly unsettled him.

He's only been gone for a moment when he's back.

"Have you seen my phone? I can't find it."

"Yeah, I have it here." I cross to the table and pick it up. His eyes dart from the handset to my face a couple of times.

"Did…" His voice cracks and he has to clear his throat. "Did anyone call?" I deliberately hesitate a second longer than is normal, until I can see that he's somewhat shaken.

"I have no idea. I just switched it to silent and brought it down here so it wouldn't disturb you." He reaches out and takes it from me.

"Thanks." He pockets it as soon as I let go of it, but I know it will be out again with his fingers flying across the screen as soon as he's out of sight.

I stand there, wondering what to do next. It doesn't take me long to decide.

"Edward!" I yell up the stairs.

"Yeah?"

"I just need to step out, we're all out of Tylenol. I think I'll call in to see my dad while I'm out."

"Ok, Baby," he calls back. I shudder at his use of the term he also uses for _her._ "I'll most probably be late, so don't wait up." I narrow my eyes and shake my head at the top of the stairs, then I grab my jacket and purse and head out. As I close the door behind me, I know he's probably already on the phone to her.

I'm already heading out of town, when I suddenly realize there's no way he'll miss me in my truck. The thing embarrasses the hell out of him, but I refuse to let him upgrade me to something shinier; I have a strong affection for this hunk of junk. I look for a place to turn around. The next junction is the road that leads to Angela's house. I consider stopping by uninvited; talk about the ultimate cock-block. Deciding that it won't actually get me any more evidence, I continue on with my original plan and drive to another familiar house.

"Hey, Jess," I say to my friend when she answers the door.

"Bella! Are you OK? You look a little—"

"I'm alright," I reassure her. "Just tired. Hey, I hate to ask, but do you think I could borrow your car? I have an errand to run and the truck's making some strange noises. Edward's working late, or else I'd take the Volvo."

"Working late again? He's never home," she says, smiling. I return it weakly, as I wonder if she knows. If anyone knows. Am I the last to find out, I wonder? She looks at me and I look at her and I realize that this is definitely what's known as an awkward silence.

"So…uh…your car? Is it OK? I mean, if you need it, it's fine, I'll just—"

"No! No, sorry. Of course it's OK. I'll just get the keys." She disappears into one of the rooms off the hall, and Mike sticks his head out of the doorway of another.

"Oh! Hi, Bella."

"Hi, Mike. I'm just borrowing Jess's car," I explain. He laughs.

"The truck giving you trouble again?"

"Yeah, something like that." I manage a small smile, and mercifully Jess arrives back then, handing me the keys. "Thanks so much. I shouldn't be too long."

"No problem. I'll see you later."

As I sit in the parking lot of Sully's Burgers, I hope I haven't already missed him. I sit, watching and checking each and every car that passes, until finally I see his car. As it passes, I wait a moment to put a little distance between us, then I pull out onto the road behind him.

He drives for a while, but as he passes through Beaver (ha! Could he have picked a more aptly named location?) he pulls into a parking lot. He'll see me if I pull in behind him, so I drive on a little, glancing in my mirror in time to see Angela running across the lot and getting in his car. I pull in further down and wait for them to drive on, before continuing to tail them.

Forty minutes after leaving Forks, they pull off the 101 onto a dirt track next to Lake Crescent. I know for a fact that it isn't just a dirt track, but a picnicking area. It's bound to scare them off if I pull straight in behind them, but I'm sure if I wait a short while, they won't even notice me sneak in.

I do just that, pulling off the road and through the trees. I know that the road doesn't lead straight down, but snakes around dotted picnic tables, each with a parking space. I pull into the first one, pretty sure that they'll be as far from the road as they can get.

It takes me five minutes of following the road and taking short cuts where I can, grateful of the brightness of the moon casting a glow through the trees, until I finally find them. I linger beside a nearby tree, pretty sure they won't even think to be looking for someone out here, but keeping close to a source of cover just in case. I squint at the windows of his car, trying to make them out inside it, but all I can determine is that they are fogged up.

I prepare to move a little closer still, when the sudden gentle sliding sound of the electric window moving down, stops me in my tracks. A voice…her voice; breathy.

"Oh God, that's so much better. It was getting kinda hot in here." The innuendo in her voice is clear – as are the obvious sounds of kissing that follow it. I can hear everything now; the moans and groans, the sound of shifting bodies, whispers and lips on skin. Gradually the windows clear and I get a much better view than I'd expected. I'm not ready for it and I'm certainly not ready for the effect that it has on me.

My husband, the man who once promised to love, cherish and honor me, as well as all that other bullshit, hovers over my best friend in the half-reclined front passenger seat. He has both her wrists in one of his large hands, holding them above her head. He works his mouth roughly down her neck as she tilts her head back, allowing him full access to the flesh there. Down…down he continues, on the path allowed him by her open shirt, until he reaches her breasts. I watch as he uses his free hand to yank the cup of her bra down to expose her right breast. He's throwing off waves of base instinct, as he roughly takes her nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting, making her cry out, the sound a heady mix of pleasure and pain.

I'm transfixed. I feel ill at the betrayal, but a twisted part of my brain is intrigued by how different the man I'm watching is from the one I know. The one who worships my body in bed as though it's something fragile that can be broken.

"Oh God, Edward," Angela moans. "I want you so much, I can't wait any longer. Fuck me. Please."

I hear him growl – a motherfucking growl! I've never heard a sound like that emitting from his mouth before. Not with me.

"I'm not sure I should. How do I know you're ready for me?" he asks her in a low, sultry voice, his mouth returning to her body.

"Touch me. Feel how wet I am for you," she gasps. He moves her roughly, and her foot appears at the window, her bare knee bent up as he finds access to what she's promising him.

"Shit," he hisses, and sits back quickly in his seat. Angela follows him, landing hungry kisses on his mouth. "Put your mouth on my cock," he begs her. "Make me wet too and then I'll fuck you."

Angela ducks down and he gasps loudly. I suddenly realize I'm digging my nails into the moss on the trunk of the tree. I loosen my grip and smooth my hands on my jeans.

Edward is pushing Angela off him now and back down into her seat. He rips open a foil packet and I can imagine him rolling the condom expertly on. I've seen him do it plenty of times. He slides across onto her and her leg comes up again.

"What do you want, Baby?" he asks her. I cringe at his use of the term of endearment that he's always used for me, but then she's clawing at his back, and I'm feeling sick again.

"I want you," she tells him.

"Oh, yeah?" he's bending to kiss her and then pulling back; teasing her. He always gives me everything I want. I wonder why.

"Yeah," she breathes.

"Any particular part of me?"

"Your amazing cock," she giggles. He gasps and then gives her what she asked for. There's no gentle build up. She wants it, he gives it to her. Hard. Again and again he slams into her, neither of them caring that they're somewhere where they could be caught. Where they _have _been caught. By me.

This should be my moment. If it's proof I was looking for, then I have it now without a doubt. A confrontation at this very moment could yield no denials. And yet…I can't look away. Who knew sex could be like this? No wonder he strayed if this is what he likes; we've never even come anywhere near this in our marital bed.

They're clinging to one another now, both grunting like some kind of animal, as they lose themselves in one of nature's most basic acts.

"Oh fuck! You feel so fucking good," Edward pants as he continues to drive himself inside her.

"You too," is all she manages to moan, before she's back to just making sounds again.

I watch, transfixed and swallowing down bile as they move together; my husband and my best friend.

I know when the end is approaching. They're moving faster now and the sounds are louder and more frantic. Finally he cums, his body jerking as he empties himself. He collapses onto her for a moment and kisses her.

"You didn't cum," he says. He sounds disappointed.

"No," she sighs. "I was close though." She's stroking his hair.

"Don't worry, I won't take you home unsatisfied. Give me a moment and we'll go again. All about you this time, baby." They kiss.

Well at least one thing about him is consistent – he's a diligent lover.

I decide I've seen enough. I need to give myself chance to get home before him, and also collect my thoughts before I face him.

I find Jessica's car again easily enough and drive it back to town, replaying everything I just watched in my head. My heart thumps in my chest and my body is flooded with adrenaline. I still can't calm my thoughts long enough for my emotions to settle and the tears to come.

I drop the car back, thank Jess, laugh off her comments about looking flustered, and roar home in my truck.

As I walk into our home, I'm struck by how everything still looks the same. Maybe I imagined it all? _If only._ I head straight upstairs and into our bedroom. I undress and go to the bathroom to prepare for bed. After five more minutes of physical normality combined with mental turmoil, I'm finally ready to slip beneath the sheets.

I lie there waiting and begging for sleep to claim me. It doesn't come. Instead I'm bombarded with visions from my psyche; replays of the scene I watched earlier. The more I think about it, the more difficult it is to erase from my mind.

I start to wonder what it would be to have that kind of sex with Edward. I can't forget the rawness of what they did.

The scenes flicker through my head again and I see nothing but the deceit and betrayal by two of the people I loved and trusted the most in the whole world.

My breathing begins to falter and hitch in my throat. The next thing I know, I'm on my side, my whole body wracking with violent sobs as the tears finally pour from my eyes. What right did he think he had to do this to _me_? To _our marriage_? I was happy, damn him. I hadn't wanted our union to end, how dare he force this onto me?

I lay like this for a while. It could have been five minutes, it could have been two hours, I have no idea; but then I hear the front door opening and closing. I'm exhausted from the crying, but I move enough to yank the covers up around my head.

He's coming softly up the stairs now, and in through the bedroom door. He closes it behind himself and heads straight for the bathroom, where I hear the shower start up. Of course he needs a shower, even though he had one just before he left; he has to scrub all traces of _her _from his skin.

I listen to the sounds from the bathroom as the water stops, and then he's cleaning his teeth. I hear the lid go on the laundry basket, and realize that I'd wondered why he'd suddenly stopped leaving his dirty clothes lying around.

The bathroom light clicks off and our bedroom is in darkness as I hear him padding over the carpet, before the bed dips with his weight as he climbs in. He rolls over to me and puts his hand on my arm as he stretches up to kiss the top of my head. The move infuriates me, and I feel my hands clenching involuntarily into fists. What to do? Can I do this? Should I save it? I'm not going to sleep anyway, I know that much.

Speak or feign sleep?...Speak or feign sleep?...Speak or feign sleep?

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

I've decided.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for all of the awesome reviews and pm's I got for the first chapter. How could I not carry on, when you all braved that cliffie so well ;o).**

**Thanks to BeckyBrit for pre-reading and helping me with this chapter. She tells me I have to write more after this chapter ;o)**

**Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer.**

**Chapter 2**

I feign sleep until his breathing becomes deeper and evens out, then I wait, just to be sure. Eventually I shift deliberately, causing the mattress to move.

Nothing.

I slide slowly out from beneath the duvet, and then I stand next to the bed, looking at him for a moment in the dim light of the radio alarm.

_How the hell does he sleep at night? _I wonder. But he does; like a baby. Something he's doing makes his fatigue stronger than his guilty conscience. If he even has a conscience at all. I've questioned several times in the past few hours whether he does.

I grab my phone and then, tip-toeing around to his side of the bed, I see _his_ phone sitting on his nightstand. It looks innocent enough, but I happen to know it's the keeper of life-crushing secrets. I pick it up and creep from the room.

Downstairs in the study, I settle down next to the laptop. I brace myself and then open his text messages again. I take screen cap's and email them to myself. It seems to take forever, and I pause often to make sure I'm not about to be caught by him.

The irony of my fear, given the situation, does not escape my notice.

Once I'm done with the texts and picture messages, I open his emails.

I try not to read the content; I'm done torturing myself. I just forward them, close them and click on the next. Finally I'm done. I change my email password as a precaution; I've had the same one for months now and I'm pretty sure he knows what it is. The last thing I want is for him to be able to destroy the only actual proof I have, should things get nasty. Scratch that. _Nastier._ This whole situation is nasty enough in itself.

I make my way back up to my bedroom and I climb back into bed, rearranging the pillows so I can sit comfortably. I don't intend lying with him again.

With his phone in my hand, I click the bedside lamp on and wriggle a little, trying to get him to wake up. I want to see the panic in his eyes before I cut to the chase. He begins to stir, but not enough for me to be able to speak with him.

"Edward?" I call softly, my heart thumping in my chest. He murmurs, but it's nothing coherent. "Edward," I say more forcefully. "Who's 'A'?"

That pulls him further from the recesses of sleep. He moves, but he's still not fully awake.

"What?" he mumbles.

"Who's 'A'? I have your phone here and—"

He's awake now. He shoots across the bed, his arm reaching towards me as his hand grabs for the device. I'm faster though, having been kept from the body-relaxing effects of sleep, thanks to him. He freezes, arm out-stretched and he slowly looks into my face. I say nothing; just raise my eyebrows as I hold the phone away from my body.

Aah, so he does have a conscience.

Slowly, yet surely, the guilt etches itself across his face, as clearly as if he'd written it on with a Sharpie. I see him swallow heavily, and he closes his eyes for a second. I haven't moved when he opens them again.

"What…?" he asks, unable to finish the sentence and ask outright. I refuse to make this easy for him. I cock my head to the side a little as though I have no idea what his problem is. My coolness in this moment both shocks and impresses me in equal measure. He's broken me, but he won't see it. Not for as long as I can help it, anyway.

"Please may I have the phone?" he asks me carefully, much as you'd ask a gunman to hand over the weapon he has pointing at your head. He still hasn't moved an inch, afraid any sudden movements could cause me to pull the trigger on him, I guess.

"You still haven't answered my question, Edward." I haven't moved either. "Who's 'A'?"

"'A'?" He swallows again. He's trying desperately to delay the inevitable. I don't care. I know where this is going, and we'll get there in the end. If he wants to drag this out, it's fine by me; I'll just sit back and enjoy watching him suffer. It _is _his turn, after all.

"I don't know what you're—" I silence him with a look. He moves towards me. "Bella, Baby, please—" I don't have much space, but I shift back as far as I can. He gets the message and stops.

"Don't call me that," I warn him.

"I'm sorry…shit." He rolls onto his back, his hands pulling at his hair and his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

"Sorry you did it, or sorry you got caught?" I ask quietly, yet firmly. He turns his head and opens his eyes to look at me, not saying a word. "Yeah, I thought as much," I tell him, his silence more telling than anything he could have said, as far as I'm concerned.

"No! No, don't think that, don't _ever _think that." He sits up facing me, and moves closer. He reaches his hand out to my face, but I tilt my head away. He thinks better of it, and drops his arm again. "I'm a fucking idiot." He's muttering to himself now, his eyes fixed on the wall. "_Why_ am I such a fucking idiot?"

I sit and watch him carefully. He's cracking, I can tell. Good. I won't be satisfied until he's broken too.

His eyes are back on me now.

"Bella, I love you, you have to believe that. I don't even know why I did it, it was fucking stupid."

I know he's dying to touch me. It's obvious from the way his fingers flicker towards me and then retreat. There's no way I'd ever grant him the permission to though. He knows that. He knows he's fucked up; it's there in the panic in his eyes. I've always been open about my disdain for infidelity; he must know this is as bad as things can get.

"I don't know anything any more, Edward. I certainly don't know you," I tell him. His face crumples a little.

"Don't say that," he whispers. "I'm the same person; I haven't changed."

"No, you haven't," I confirm. "People don't. But you're not the man I thought you were. Do you know what happens when we lose someone we love?"

He shakes his head.

"We grieve. I'm grieving for the man I thought I'd married." My voice was growing steadily louder. "I'm grieving for somebody who has never even existed, Edward! Do you know how stupid that makes me feel?"

I can't sit still any longer. I throw the covers back forcefully and get quickly to my feet, although I don't make it any further. Edward follows me, crawling across the bed, and then standing beside me. I back away.

"Sit down," I tell him, pointing to the bed. He's taller than me and I don't want to be looking up at him for this.

"But, Bella—"

"Sit!" I command. His eyes drop to the floor and he sighs; but he sits.

"She's my best friend," I whisper. "Or should I say she _was_ my best friend. How could you? How could _she_?"

I'm pacing now, while he sits with his head in his hands, rocking slightly.

"I know, I know," he mutters.

I stop.

"How long?" I demand. He drops one of his hands and looks up at me. He's begging me with his eyes to take it back; to un-ask the question. I can't. I won't. I need to know. It must be a part of my newly discovered masochistic streak that I'm learning all about today.

Whatever; this is important to me. I need to know details.

"Bella, don't do this," he pleads.

"I need to know."

"You don't."

"Do NOT dare to presume to tell me what I do or do not need to know. You've dropped me in the middle of this shitty situation, at least let _me_ decide how I'm going to deal with it!" I yell at him. "How. Long?"

He looks at the ceiling and pulls his lips between his teeth. He closes his eyes, as though he's preparing for some kind of impact.

"Nine months."

"Nine months?" I repeat. He nods. I think back, trying to work out what was happening nine months ago. "New Year?"

"Christmas Eve."

"But I was with you Christmas Eve," I say, frantically flipping through my memories of the night. "We went to Angela's place, but I was with you all night…" I trail off, remembering something. "Until I passed out."

I hadn't even wanted to drink that night; it was Angela encouraging me, bringing me shots.

_Had she planned it all along? _

"Angela." I state. He nods.

"I swear to you, Bella, she started it. She cornered me in the kitchen while I was fetching a glass of water for you and—"

"I believe you," I tell him calmly. I'm not sure why, but I do. "Not that it matters. You could have said no. You could have said 'no' at that point and you could have said 'no' at any other point during the past nine months. But you didn't. You just carried on fucking my best friend." My calm façade is slipping away now.

I start pacing again.

"I knew." I tell him. "I knew you were seeing someone. I even discussed it with her!" I laugh, a hollow, unstable sound.

"Yeah, I know," he admits. An image of them laughing as they discuss my suspicions, flashes into my head. I feel so foolish.

"Of course. Well she would tell you, wouldn't she? Did you use that information to improve your game plan, huh? To try arrangements that wouldn't make me so suspicious?"

He opens his mouth to speak, and then closes it. It opens again, but he still hesitates.

"I don't know what to say," he says finally. His eyes look glassy as he looks right at me. "What do you want me to say?" His voice cracks a little.

"I don't know," I whine, honestly. "Iwant you to tell me that I imagined the whole thing. That there are no texts. That there are no emails. That I didn't stand ten feet away from your car at a picnic site and watch while you fucked her like an animal."

Something flickers across his face.

"You watched us?"

"Yes." I feel my cheeks heating up as a rush of guilt floods through me. How ridiculous. I've done nothing wrong.

"Why don't you fuck me like that?" I ask. I don't mean to say it; it tumbles from my mouth before I can stop myself. "Is that why you did it? Why you started this whole thing? Am I too vanilla for you, Edward? Am I boring in bed?"

"No!" He jumps to his feet again, traces of anger on his face. "Bella, I don't fuck you _like that_ because I don't _fuck _you. I _make love to you_, because that's how you deserve to be treated."

"How I deserve to be treated? My God, you are such a hypocrite! How I deserve to be treated, is for my husband not to be screwing my best friend!"

He walks to the dresser, opens his drawer and pulls a pair of boxer briefs out. He yanks them on, walks to the bathroom, and then turns and walks back, as though lost.

"I can't do this, Bella. I need to make this right, but every time I open my mouth I make it worse." He's standing in front of me, hands out, palms up.

"You can't possibly make it worse, there's nowhere lower on the scale for the situation to slide," I tell him, as I wrap my arms around myself. I'm desperate for a hug, but I'm not letting him anywhere near me. I know where those hands have been tonight.

"Please. Just please, let's try to work through this. I won't go near her again. It's you, Bella. It's always been you. Trust me."

"Trust you?" The sound I make in response to that, actually hurts my throat. "You did not just say that, Edward. I know you're not that dumb."

He hangs his head, silent as the time ticks by. Eventually he raises his eyes to mine.

"Do you want me to go?" he asks.

And that moment…that's where I fall apart. He's given in so easily; I can see the hopelessness in his eyes. It's right there behind the tears that are beginning to spill onto his cheeks. My own tears follow right after. I don't move, not even to wipe the salt-water rivulets from my face. I stand there and I stand tall and I stare at him, letting him see what he's done to me.

I'll show him the cracks, but I'm determined to remain dignified. I won't curl in a ball in the corner, like I would love to. Not while he's here anyway; I'll save the true misery for when I'm alone.

"Yes, I do." I tell him. "You can't stay here."

He lets his dignity go as easily as he did his wedding vows; crumbling to the floor. Pulling his knees up under his chin, and wrapping his arms around them, he breaks down. He breaks apart. My heart wrenches as I watch him. I thought he'd already broken _me_ completely, but apparently he hadn't. He has now though.

"What were you thinking, Edward?" I ask him through sobs.

My emotions are at war within me again. I hate him, but I hate to see him like this too. Apparently you can't switch off from loving someone just because they shit all over you. I wish I could; it would make this a hell of a lot easier.

"I don't want to let you go," I tell him, wiping my tears with the back of my hand. "But I can't stay with you now. It's too much. It's not fair on me."

I'm on a dangerously slippery slope to a pity-fest, when a sudden wave of anger takes over me.

"How _dare _you do this to us? What gave you the right to make this decision for me? I don't want to be alone!"

He all but crawls across the floor to me.

"You don't have to be, Bella. We can work this out; I know we can. Please, just give me a chance." His face is soaking wet with tears, and he wipes his nose on his arm like a little boy.

"You _had_ a chance," I tell him, sobbing every bit as hard as he is, now. "You only get one chance with me. I don't _give _second chances."

"Where will I go? What will I do? Bella, I'm _nothing _without you." His head is in his hands again, his fingers rubbing at his eyes.

"You should have thought of that when you decided to start having an affair with another woman," I spat back.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I can't say it enough," he says, his voice pleading.

I can't take any more of this. I'm drained.

"You need to leave," I tell him. Go to your mom and dad's; I need some space." I take my robe from the hook on the back of the bedroom door, slip my arms in and fasten the tie around my waist.

"What will I tell them?" he asks, his voice hoarse.

"Why don't you try telling the truth for once?" I say, as I turn to leave the room.

I can still hear him crying as I descend the stairs. My own tears continue to flow, but they're silent now. The body-racking sobs have subsided at last.

I enter the kitchen. A strange atmosphere has descended on the house and I don't like it. As soon as I've set the coffee machine running, I wander over to the iPod. I flick through the songs, wondering what to put on, but in the end I leave it. My reason is simple: I want to create as few links to this time in my life as possible. I don't want to be driving along in a year's time, and suddenly hear a song on the radio that brings me back to this moment.

I'm sitting at the table cradling the hot mug of coffee, when he appears. He's dressed and he's carrying an overnight bag. The tears have stopped, but he looks like hell.

He looks destroyed. _Self-destruction,_ I remind myself before I can feel guilty.

This is hard. I don't want him to go. I don't want to be here alone. But…I can't be with him either.

"I've got my stuff," he says.

"I can see," I reply. Silence.

"Well, I guess I'll be heading out then."

He's stalling, hoping I'll take the opportunity to change my mind and ask him to stay.

It's not going to happen.

"Ok."

"Should I come round tomorrow? Can we talk then?"

"I'll call you when I'm ready." I tell him.

He walks up behind me and places a kiss on the top of my head. I let him do it, but I don't let him see how I wince at the contact.

"Goodbye, Bella."

"'Bye."

He leaves the room. I hear him get his jacket from the closet, and the rustling sound as he pulls it on. Finally the front door closes and I hear his car start up. Moments later it's silent.

I feel so alone.

_Better alone than lied to, though_, I tell myself. The eerie quiet un-nerves me, but considering the choice I've just made, I know I'm going to have to get used to it now.

**~*~*~OP&P~*~*~**

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	3. Chapter 3

**Here's a very humble author's note from me. I have been blown away, not just by the number of reviews that this story has had so far, but also by the very nature of them. I have no idea what it is, but there is something about this story that has touched many of you. I have had such long, detailed and emotive messages from people; a lot of you are truly invested. Which is wonderful…but also very scary for me! Everybody has opinions on what they want to see happen here, and I know for a fact that I won't be able to please all of you, but I hope you'll bear with me.**

**In the meantime, please continue to read and review. I love reading them and reply whenever I can.**

**Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer.**

**Chapter 3**

I know I look as though I haven't slept all night, probably because I haven't to speak of, but even as the doorbell rings, I don't care. I have bigger problems than my appearance, right now. I pull my robe tighter as I walk to the door, wondering if it will be him. If it is, I'll be pissed. I told him _I'd_ call _him_ when I was ready. We're on my terms now.

I peer through the spyhole in the door. Oh. This should be interesting.

"Hi, Esme," I greet my mother-in-law, opening the door and standing aside to let her through. I have a feeling she hasn't had too much sleep either from looking at her. I close the door and turn back to her. She embraces me hard.

"Bella, sweetheart. I'm so very sorry," she tells me.

Somehow I know that when she says sorry, it's an apology for what her son has done; not simply an expression of regret for my situation.

"It's not your fault. He made his own choices," I tell her as we break apart. I actually forget about my own misery long enough to feel sorry for her.

"I know, Bella, but we can't help but feel responsible in some way." She's wringing her hands in front of her. I watch for a moment, until I can't stand it any longer. Reaching out, I put my own hand on hers to stop the movement.

"Stop," I tell her. It's an ambiguous order, intended for both her hands and her psyche. "You can't think like that. You did a wonderful job of raising him, you must know that. If I can be half the mother you are, someday…" My voice fades as my words catch up with me.

I can't help but wonder what my chances of being a mother are, now. I'd been thinking about it a lot recently, thinking that maybe I was ready to take that next step. I wonder what Edward would have said if I'd gotten around to mentioning it? Would he have gone along with it despite what he was doing with my best friend?

"Bella?" Esme's voice brings me back to the moment. She's looking at me, concerned.

"Sorry," I say. She smiles sadly at me. There's pity in her expression, too. I guess I'd better get used to it; she won't be the only one looking at me like that when word gets out.

"Have you eaten?" she asks me. I shake my head, no.

"I'm not hungry," I tell her. My appetite is just another thing on the list of what he's taken from me.

"That may be, but you still need to eat."

"Maybe later. I could use a coffee though. Join me?" I ask her, turning to make for the kitchen.

"Sure," she says.

I'm having a hard time not rattling off questions for her: What time did he get to their house? How was he? What exactly did he tell them? What did they say? Where is he now? Does she think he's been in touch with _her_? I can't even bring myself to think the name.

"How is he?" I ask, allowing myself this single indulgence. Except the term 'indulgence' suggests something satisfactory, and her reply fails to satisfy any part of me.

"Not good. I've never seen him so quiet."

We're pretty quiet ourselves, as we sit at the kitchen table with the coffee maker sputtering on the counter behind us.

"Bella, what do you think you'll do?" she asks suddenly. "Is there any chance you can take him back?" She's pleading a little, and while I understand completely why she does, I also resent it. It's not fair of her to put me in a position where I feel I'm letting _her_ down.

The coffee maker beeps and I get up to pour it, glad of the excuse to not look her in the eye.

"I'm sorry, Esme. I really don't think I can." There's silence while I pour the coffee. When I come back to the table and place the mugs down, I see with dismay that she's crying.

Anger flares in me again. Does he even have any idea at all of the pain he's caused? Of how widespread it is? He adores his mother. I'm pretty sure if he saw her now, he'd be devastated. He _should_ see her now.

"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I know I shouldn't have asked, but…" She sighs. "He's my son. _He_ may not be able to see how good you are for him, Bella, but I do. I see what he's throwing away."

"Thrown away," I correct her. Nothing is in progress here; it's a done deal.

I hunch over her, my arms around her shoulders. How typical of me to wind up in this situation; comforting when I should really be being comforted. Esme obviously thinks the same thing at the same moment, as she makes an obvious effort to compose herself. I return to my seat and cradle my mug between my hands.

"I hope you understand…" I begin. Damn, this is hard. I swallow. "I'm breaking up with Edward; not you and Carlisle. You've been like parents to me, and I want you to know how much I appreciate it."

"You're welcome," she tells me. Her eyes are glistening again.

"I hope that our relationship can continue," I tell her. "If it's not too awkward, that is."

She smiles. It's small, but it's definitely a smile.

"I really don't think Edward can pass comment." She gazes into her mug.

"I'm sorry this has to affect you, Esme." I truly am.

"Don't worry about _me_, Bella; concentrate on yourself. If there's anything at all we can do, or that you need, will you promise you'll ask?" I know she won't take no for an answer, so I nod my head. I really don't think I ever _could_ ask them, but there's no point getting into an argument about it now.

We finish our coffee and she offers to stay, but I decline; her presence just makes me feel guilty for being a part of the broken union that's putting her through this. I wonder how much worse I'd feel if I was the one at fault.

She leaves, with a promise to be in touch.

I consider going back to bed. I even get as far as standing beside it with the duvet pulled back, but then I decide I won't mope. Not at the moment anyway.

I look at the smooth bedding on what had always been his side. The first thing I'd done after he left was change the sheets. The tears had flowed as heavily as ever as I stuffed the dirty ones into the washing machine. There had definitely been something cathartic about the act though, I'd decided later, when I eventually slipped beneath the crisp, laundry-fresh replacements.

I can keep going, so I decide that I will. I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. I look ghastly. First stop: shower.

Some of his bathroom items have gone, whilst others are still there, mocking me with their presentation of normalcy. I look away, deliberately tilting my head upwards in defiance. I realize I'm being ridiculous, and berate myself for acting up in front of inanimate objects. I really need to get a grip.

The water in the shower feels good. If I were in a film, or a book, I think to myself, this water would take on magical properties, ridding me of the worries and the pressures of the situation.

I have a flashback of Nellie Forbush in _South Pacific_, washing her man right out of her hair.

"Waste no time; weep no more, show him what the door is for," I sing half-heartedly, hoping it will make me feel a little more empowered. It doesn't; I still feel like crap as I twist the handle round to stop the water. Not really any surprises there.

I dry my hair, get dressed and decide to put on a little make-up. I need to visit the store at some point, there's no need to go out looking like hell. My one concession to the situation is waterproof mascara. That's the thing about grief. The tears have a habit of making an appearance when you're least expecting it. I remember it well from when Gran died.

I'm actually feeling pretty together for the moment. Or maybe it's more of the numbness. Whatever, it feels like a window of opportunity for getting the store visit out of the way. I have no idea how the rest of the day could go; for all I know I may collapse this afternoon. Best to do what I can, when I can, I decide.

I wish I had someone I could call to just bring the groceries to me. You know, like a best friend or something.

The good thing is that it's Saturday so I don't have to call work and make excuses for being absent. The bad thing is that it's Saturday and from my vantage point at the edge of the parking lot, half of the population of Forks has converged on the Thriftway.

I give myself a quick pep-talk and jump out of the truck. I grab a basket and put my head down, determined to be back home as soon as I can. With chocolate, ideally.

I've never done such efficient shopping. Usually I stroll around the store, taking my time; today I'm a woman on a mission.

My hand closes around a pack of deli ham in the refrigerator.

"Hey, Bella!"

Mid-way through the air to my basket, it falls to the floor as the voice causes my grip to falter for a moment.

"Shit," I whisper as I bend to retrieve it. I'm not cursing my clumsiness.

_Shit? _Even I'm questioning why, in a moment such as this, 'shit' is my strongest reaction. I come to the conclusion that everything else is too complicated. When all's said and done, 'shit' does, after all, sum it all up pretty well.

"On your own today?" she asks. I stand, my eyes drawn to her smiling face as _her_ eyes dart around the store behind me. Well, of course she'd be hoping to see him.

My heart begins to thump in my chest, and I really want to slap that smile off her face and tell her what a lousy cheating whore of a best friend she is. But then two thoughts enter my head.

One, she doesn't know that I know, which means he hasn't been in touch with her.

Two, I can't do this. Not here. Not now.

I set my basket down on the floor at her feet, turn and walk away, my head spinning. I walk right out of the store, hearing her bewildered voice as she calls after me. I ignore her. She'd better get used to it.

I'm in the truck, out of the parking lot and five minutes down the 101 before I realise the waterproof mascara was a wise decision.

I haven't made a conscious decision about where to go, but somehow I find a destination. I reverse into a space at the back of the parking lot at First Beach, facing the sea. A van full of teens is parked up opposite me. I watch the girls giggling as they cast glances at the boys, who play it cool as they zip up their wetsuits.

I wish I could warn them not to trust the boys and to choose their friends carefully. I wish someone had warned me at that age. Not that I'd have listened of course, especially not to some crazy woman with tears streaming down her face.

I wonder how many of their friendships will stand the tests of time and temptation? I'd been sure that mine and Angela's would have. We'd been best friends since she moved to town at the beginning of high school. I thought of the hours that we watched Edward together, both of us captivated by him. We giggled like typical schoolgirls, but we only ever watched from afar.

Years later, I graduated college and returned to Forks. I went out to a party to catch-up with some old friends, and that was where I ran into him for the first time in four years. I'd felt I'd known him so well, that it was strange that he didn't know my name; didn't even recognize me.

Angela wasn't there. She wasn't due back for another couple of weeks, but she listened and squealed in all the right places, as I called her with an excited _guess who I saw last night?_

She never made the slightest suggestion that she might still be into him. I wondered if she really was, or if she just wanted what I had?

She'd been there every step of the relationship: the flirting, the first kiss, the fooling around, the first time we had sex, the arguments and tears, moving in together, the proposal. She was even maid of fucking honor at our wedding. Could I have chosen anyone made of less honor? I was doubtful, looking back.

How on earth would I ever survive this? Having the two people I cared for most – who I thought cared for _me_ – ripped away on a tide of betrayal.

It's downright fucking cruel, and…

A pain rips through my chest. I think my heart just cracked right down the center.

I'm alone. I wonder if there will ever be anybody – without a familial obligation – standing by my side again. There's nobody here to hold me upright now. Nobody to save me from drowning in my tears.

I know what the saying means, to be hurting inside, but holy shit, I have never known pain so excruciating. I curl in, trying to hold myself together.

A sudden knock on the passenger-side window startles me and I jump. Reluctantly, I lean across and unlock the door, wiping my face on my sleeve as surreptitiously as possible.

"Hi Embry," I hiccup, greeting the guy as he opens the door. He's a friend of a friend really. Nobody of consequence.

"Are you ok?" he asks, sticking his head into the truck.

No.

"Yes. Just having a bad day," I tell him. I now know it was a mistake leaving the house at all. I'm not up to this; to the questions and explanations.

"Oh, right." I know he wants more. I know he knows he's not getting it. I also know he'll be busting a gut to tell Jacob about this. What was that about consequence? Crap.

He's silent. I'm silent. An awkward atmosphere descends. I can guarantee he'll break before I do.

"Ok, well, I guess I'll see you around then," he says, although he doesn't move. I don't look at him; I keep my eyes fixed firmly forward.

"Yep."

Another moment and then he slams the door closed.

I see him walk away through my peripheral vision. As soon as he's out of sight, I let my head lean against the steering wheel. I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths.

I need to get out of here.

I think about going home, but there's one thing I really need to get out of the way first.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Dad," I call as I unlock the front door. He insists I still let myself in.<p>

"In here, Bells," a voice calls from the kitchen. I'm dreading this; have been dreading this since last night when the realization I'd have to break the news of my marriage breakdown to my father, hit me. "I'm just trying to fix this damn leaking u-bend again," his voice informs me from the cupboard below the sink. "I just can't seem to get it…right." His voice tails off as he emerges from the cupboard, pulls himself to his feet and gets his first look at my face. "Bella?"

I take a deep breath. I'm already sick of saying it, even though this is the first time I've actually said it out loud.

"Edward and I, we…split up." My voice is hoarse from crying. I don't recognise it.

He looks at me and I stare steadily back. I can tell he's processing the information.

"You split up?"

"Yeah."

He winces and I know that it's come as a shock to him, much as it did to me.

"But how…I mean, I only came over on Wednesday. The two of you seemed pretty happy then?" It's a question. He evidently doesn't trust his own judgement of the situation.

I just want him to understand and accept things, without me actually having to go through any of it with him. Neither of us is going to be comfortable with the truth.

"So…"

"So…?" I echo.

"Ah, come on, Bells. What happened? "

I think about lying. For some stupid reason, I actually think of keeping the truth from my own father, to protect Edward. The thought is a fleeting one.

"Edward's been having an affair. With Angela."

I'm half expecting my dad to go straight for his shotgun and hunt him down. Relief floods me when he proves me wrong.

"Oh, Bella. I'm sorry, Honey," he said, his eyes filling with emotion. I close the space between us then, and wrap my arms around his waist. The moment I'm safe in his embrace, the tears begin again.

"It hurts, Daddy," I choke out between sobs.

"I know, sweetheart. I know." And he does. He knows because he's been there. My mom wasn't having an affair, but she ended a marriage that he wasn't ready to let go of. So, yeah. He knows.

Eventually he calms me down and leaves me wrapped in a blanket on the couch watching TV, while he goes to make me a Charlie Swan special hot chocolate. It's been years since he did this. I can't wait.

I wonder what the time is and pull my phone from my pocket.

**3 missed calls – Jake**

I knew it. I can't deal with him now; he'll have to wait.

"You know, Bells. If you want to stay here for a couple of days, I don't mind," my dad says as he walks back in with a mug for each of us.

"Thanks, Dad," I say, genuinely grateful. I consider being brave and decide that it's just going to mean lonely. "I think I will." He smiles at me.

"I'll drive you to grab your stuff before dinner," he promises.

We're quiet for a moment, both of us with our eyes fixed on the TV, neither of us really watching it. I can tell he wants to ask something, even before he manages to actually form the words.

"Just say it, Dad. Whatever it is," I say eventually. Honestly, it's getting kind of painful watching his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

"I'm sorry, but…did you say…" He turned to look at me now. "That Edward was having an affair with Angela? As in Angela Weber?" I nod.

"Yeah."

"But she's your best friend!"

"No. She _was_ my best friend, Dad. I think that ship sailed the moment she started having sex with my husband."

There's a flash of anger across my dad's face.

"When I see that cheating little son of a—"

I'd been waiting for this reaction, although I had expected it a lot sooner.

"Dad," I say, the warning heavy in my voice. He got it.

"I never liked him anyway."

I smirk.

"I knew that," I tell him. Because I have kind of always suspected as much.

"I'm a cop," he says, shrugging. "We have these hunches."

We're quiet again. I'd forgotten how easy my dad was to be with. A line from Grease pops into my head.

_The only man a girl can depend on is her daddy._

Wasn't that just the truth?

* * *

><p><strong>A q<strong>**uick mention I promised I would make!**

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	4. Chapter 4

**Hello. First thing I need to do, is grovel to my friends TwiWeasel and BeckyBrit for failing to thank them for their pre-reading last update, so a belated thank you, guys, for all of your help with that and also for being there during the last week. Becky also helped with this chapter :o)**

**Also, reviews for the last chapter: If I replied to you twice, I'm sorry, I lost track of where I was up to. If I didn't reply at all yet, then it's because I'm still working my way through :o)**

**I apologise for the spacing and formatting in this chapter. I have no idea why this site can't just display everything as it is in the documents you upload, but I also don't have the time or energy to try and figure out a way around it! I guess as long as the words and punctuation are there, it doesn't *really* matter :o)**

**Disclaimer: Everything Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer**

**Chapter 4**

The day has dragged, and yet somehow the knock at the door still manages to feel as though it has come far too soon. I get up off the couch and trudge down the hallway, hating that this moment has arrived. My head has spent the last four days whirring, but it always comes to the same conclusion; there's never any doubt in my mind. This is how I know that it's time to face him.

Within five minutes of my six a.m. text leaving my phone this morning, he'd replied.

**Me 06.02**

**We need to talk. Can you come over today?**

**Edward 06.04**

**Of course, what time?**

**Me 06.08**

**5.30?**

**Edward 06.09**

**No problem. I'll see you later xx**

The kisses piss me off. They're inappropriate given the circumstances.

I pause a moment at the door, before I pull it open. He's shifting his weight from one foot to the other, hands in his pockets and shoulders hunched. He's reminiscent of a guilty dog, waiting for a scolding from its owner.

"Hi." There's a smile playing on his lips as he looks at me. "I didn't know whether I should let myself in or not, so I…" His words trail off as awkwardness gets the better of him. He shakes his head, almost imperceptibly. It seems to help him re-gather his thoughts. "I knocked."

I nod and stand back to allow him to enter.

He follows me into the kitchen. I turn in time to see the look on his face as he takes in the scene before him. I spent the day preparing for this, and so what greets him is the paper timeline of our three year marriage. It's all here: the marriage certificate, bank statements, insurance certificates, the documents for the house, mortgage agreements…the list goes on.

He looks shaken. As I put that together with the small smile he gave me as I let him in, I realize that he wasn't expecting this. He wasn't expecting this at all.

"Oh my God. You actually thought…" I couldn't even finish my sentence.

"Shit," he says, burying his fist in his hair and turning away.

"You have to have realized…" I take a deep breath. "There was never going to be any way back from this, Edward."

He slowly turns to face me. I look away. I was always grateful for having found such a beautiful man to be mine; now his beauty just makes this whole thing harder to deal with.

I can't look in his eyes. I know damn well that this is all _his_ doing, and yet I can't help but feel responsible for the hurt I see in his face now. I knew this wouldn't be easy, but, hell, I had no idea it would be this damn hard.

The man has cheated on me for the last nine months; you'd think this would be a no-brainer. So why is getting him out of my life for good, so freaking painful?

"Bella—"

"Don't, Edward. Just…don't, ok?"

"But we haven't even talked about this!"

"We talked enough for me to make a decision about my future." He takes a step forward, towards where I stand. "Don't come any closer," I whisper. "Please. This is hard enough as it is. If you still care for me at all, help make this as easy as possible for me."

I look up at him. Big mistake. He looks as though I just speared him through the heart.

_He speared you first_, I try to remind myself. It doesn't make me feel any better.

"I don't want to lose you over this. It was stupid—"

"It was nine months, Edward," I say, raising my voice and losing the tenuous control I've been maintaining. "A one-night stand is _stupid_; a nine-month affair is _cruel_!"

I break. I've spent the last few days being mostly strong. Today I desperately _need_ to be strong, but it's not to be. I wrap my arms around myself. It's started now; there's no way to dam the flow so I let it all out.

I feel large arms around me. I struggle against them for a moment, but I have no strength left, and he's not letting go. His embrace feels good. It's the first real physical comfort I've had in days, so I go with it for as long as the tears flow.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I'm so sorry," he's telling me, his own tears flowing too, making my hair damp where his face rests.

"You bastard," I whisper through sobs, digging my fingers into his back, trying to hurt him. "I can't believe you did this to us."

"I know, I'm sorry. I know."

"Why? Just tell me why?"

"I don't even know! It just…things just…got out of hand." I shake my head and let the wracking sobs shake my body as his tears flow silently onto me.

Finally the tears stop. I'm exhausted and a strange calm has settled over me. I pull back from him, dodging the hand that reaches towards my face as I put some distance between us.

"I want a divorce," I tell him as I pull my hair away from my wet cheeks. He looks at me as though I just slapped him.

"A divorce? But…No! It's too soon! It's been less than a week." He's truly perplexed by the idea; I can almost see him chasing it around his head. I feel my face pull into an incredulous expression.

"Why are you so surprised? What did you think I had all of this stuff out for?" I gesture towards the paper mountain on the table.

"I just thought it was for a few practicalities. I mean, maybe a separation..." He pauses as he stumbles in a circle. When he stops, he looks right at me. "Really, Bella? _Divorce_?"

I nod, guarded.

"But it's so final," he whispers.

"So is sleeping with my best friend for nine months," I counter. "It's over, Edward. There's no way to put right what you did."

He rubs his hand across his face and then nods his head. He knows me well enough to understand when I mean what I say. I let my eyes take him in; he's resigned to it. I'm glad. I don't want to fight any more.

"If we co-operate with one another on the divorce, it can be quick and simple," I tell him.

"You forgot 'painless'," he sneers. I let it go. He's clearly hurting; he wasn't expecting this and now he's lashing out. I shake my head sadly.

"Just because I'm doing this, it doesn't mean I want it, Edward," I explain softly. "I have no choice. This situation…what you did…it's not something I can forgive and forget. Neither of us deserves to be in a marriage filled with bitterness and sorrow."

"It wouldn't have to be like that, Bella. I'll try. I'll make it right; I'll work so damn hard—"

"Nothing can make this right," I interrupt. "Nothing you could _ever_ do could fix this."

He's pacing.

"Why don't you go? Take a little time to process things. I'll call you. We can start to sort out the practical stuff next time."

He stalks straight towards the hallway without saying a word.

"Edward?" I call after him. The only sound I hear in reply is the front door as it slams closed. I glance at the papers on the table, and leave the room. I need a little space from this myself.

I could do with some company, but I really don't want to be subject to pitying looks. There are still people that don't know…actually, scratch that; this is small-town Forks after all. There are still people I _haven't told_. Better. I'm not strong enough to pretend I'm ok though.

Jacob. He'd be kind of perfect company right now. Only…I don't need any complications. I'm not sure letting him in while I'm vulnerable is the right thing to do.

And, anyway, I'm basing my judgement on the quality of his company, on the old Jacob. He's not that person anymore, I remind myself. Why does nobody stay the same? Or am I just too naïve to see the real person beneath what they want me to see?

The TV's still on in the living room, so I sit on the couch and channel-hop. Really, you'd think with all these damn channels there'd be at least one thing worth watching, but no; nothing. I settle for a music channel and try not to let my mind wander.

Almost immediately my phone vibrates in my pocket to let me know I have a message. Oh, speak of the devil. Although, he _has_ been texting me at last twice a day since Embry saw me crying, so I really shouldn't be surprised.

I've yet to tell him what's going on, mostly because he and Edward have history and I'm not sure I can take the gloating. I guess my golden boy did eventually fuck up. Jake had always predicted he would.

**Jake 18.15**

**How's things, Bells? U talking 2 me yet?**

I tap my phone against my leg for a moment as I debate whether or not this will be a good idea. Still undecided, I type out my reply and hit send.

**18.17**

**Yeah, I'm talking to you. Things aren't great actually. You busy right now?**

**Jake 18.18**

**No. Want to meet up?**

**18.19**

**You at home?**

**Jake 18.21**

**Yeah. U driving down?**

**18.22**

**Yep. Leaving now**

**Jake 18.24**

**Cool. C u in a few.**

I'm still not convinced I'm doing the right thing, even as I take the left turn off the 101 onto La Push Road. I want to see Jake, I really do; I could _really_ use a friend right now. What I don't need though, are more problems. Worryingly, Jake and problems usually go hand in hand.

My concerns are quieted, at least for the moment, as he barrels out of his house to my truck, yanks the door open and drags me out, into a huge hug.

"Bella!" The only other thing that has ever greeted me as enthusiastically as Jake does, had four legs and a wagging tail.

"Hey, Jake," I say, revelling in the unnatural heat of his body as it almost envelops me completely. I hug him back. Hard. I hadn't realized just how much I missed him.

We break apart and I look up at him. My heart sinks.

"Jacob, have you been fighting?" He reaches a hand up and touches the cut on his eyebrow with his fingertips.

"Uh…kinda. I guess."

I sigh. He's not changed.

"I'm more concerned about you, though. What the hell's been going on?" he demands. I glance at the low, red boarded house behind him. He catches my look and second-guesses me. "My dad's home," he says, before I can even utter my request to go inside. "Wanna go for a drive?"

"Sure," I reply. He takes my hand in his like he always did, and leads me over to what must be his car. "You upgraded," I say, as he opens the door. It's around twenty years newer than the old VW he used to have when I last spent time with him.

"Yeah." Jake grins. It's infectious and I feel my mouth mirroring it. It feels strange. "I treated myself."

We climb in and he starts the engine and pulls away.

We're mostly quiet as he drives. In a comfortable way though; there's nothing about Jake that makes me feel ill at ease, ever. Or there never used to be. It _had_ been a while, and I'd heard stories. I keep catching him glancing at me out of the corner of his eye and smiling. After the third time, I challenge him.

"What? Seriously, Jake, I'm getting a complex here."

"Nothing…it's nothing." He shakes his head and looks at me again." I raise my eyebrows. "I just can't believe you're actually here. It's been so long."

"Well, you know that's all your own fault, Jake. If you weren't so damn volatile around Edward—"

"He took something away that meant a lot to me," he cuts in, giving me a sideways look loaded with all the things his statement only alludes to.

Jake loved me once; before Edward. Maybe I should have just forced myself to love him back; it was obvious now that my heart wasn't up to making the right choices for me.

"It's him, isn't it?" he says, interrupting my musing. Despite the direction the conversation had taken, I'm unprepared for the suddenness of the challenge. It stuns me into silence. "Well? I bet I'm right. Is it him?" I can already hear the venom in his voice.

"I…" I take a deep breath and then let it out, closing my eyes as I prepare for what will follow as soon as I admit it. "Yes."

There's no response. I open my eyes in surprise and look at Jake. His mouth is set and he's frowning at the road ahead, but he hasn't lost his temper. My eyes travel to his hands on the steering wheel. His knuckles are white from gripping it so hard.

The Jake I used to know would have swerved over to the side of the road and been kicking trees by now. This is a definite and welcome improvement.

We've reached the end of the road next to where the Hoh River meets the Pacific Ocean. Jake cuts the engine and is first out of the car. I follow behind, zipping my jacket up against the wind. The place is deserted.

He strides ahead. When I finally catch him up, he's sitting on one of many huge, bleached, washed up tree trunks that congest the beach. His eyes are fixed on the sea.

"What happened?" he asks. I pause and he turns to look at me. I swallow back the tears that threaten to appear again.

"You remember Angela Weber? My best friend?"

"Angela? Yeah. Can you believe she's been fucking Jared for the past couple of months?" My mouth drops open. I close it again. Did I ever really know Angela at all?

"No, I didn't know that," I admit. "Can you believe she's been fucking Edward for the past nine months?" I ask him, copying his words.

He cocks his head to one side.

"Say that again," he demands. Uh-oh. This is too much. I suck my lips between my teeth, squeeze my eyes closed and shake my head.

"I can't," I whisper. The moment of strength that allowed me to tell him, has passed.

"Holy fuck, Bella. I'm sorry, honey."

He opens his arms to me and I go to him. He pulls me onto his lap and holds me as I cry. Again. My tears aren't as violent this time, which is something to be thankful for at least. "You want me to go and kick his ass?" he asks.

"No, definitely not," I say, sniffling into his chest. He doesn't respond again, so I pull back and look at him. "Promise me you won't go near him, Jake."

He's staring steadily back at me and I'm waiting for him to tell me that he can't promise me that, when he speaks.

"Ok, I promise," he says. I'm more than a little surprised.

"Where have you taken Jake, and what have you done with him?" I ask, only half joking. The man before me has matured over the last four years, it would seem. I feel as though I don't know him any longer, and that makes me sad. Maybe the decision to keep my distance these past few years was the wrong one to make. I had valid reasons at the time though, I have to remember that.

"Maybe I've learned that sometimes it's better to see the bigger picture," he says. I slide off his lap and onto the wood beside him.

"Maybe," I concede. "Or…?"

"Or maybe my dad threatened to kick me out if I get into any more trouble," he admitted at last. So he hasn't changed all that much then. Still, the old Jake wouldn't have taken any notice of what his dad said. "Although, if you _had_ asked me to go after him, I would have. For you."

"Thanks, Jake," I tell him, knowing his intentions are good, even if the threat of physical violence to my future ex-husband, isn't. "So," I continue, steering the conversation in a slightly different direction. "While I commend your new-found self-control, don't you think you should be moving out soon anyway? You're getting a little old to be living with your dad, don't you think?" I attempt to joke. It falls flat.

"I don't stay for my own benefit, Bella; the old man drives me crazy. I stay to keep an eye on him. He's in a wheelchair now. He refuses to have a carer, and he doesn't really let me do much, but at least when I'm around I know he's ok."

I look out at the ocean as the light fades.

"I'm sorry, Jake. I didn't realize things had gotten so bad." He shrugs, but says no more.

We're both quiet for a while, but slowly we begin to talk again like we used to. The sun is dipping low in the distance when I finally sigh and get to my feet.

"I should be getting back," I say, wiping my jeans down where I've been sitting on the tree trunk.

"Why?" he asks. Good question. For the first time in years I can please myself. It's actually a pretty refreshing feeling. "I don't know," I admit with a light laugh.

"I'm going round to Embry's tonight. Why don't you come along?" he asks. I wince.

"Not tonight. I can't really handle company at the moment." He doesn't push. I'm grateful.

"Ok. Some other time maybe."

"Maybe. I'm going to be needing all the friends I can get."

"You know where I am, Bella. I hoped you'd remember some day."

"Yeah, I'm glad I did, Jake," I tell him.

He drives me back to his place and I get in my truck. As I drive home I realize I'm feeling a little brighter already. Jake always has had that effect on me. I'm glad that's not changed over time at least. God knows, my days could do with a little brightening now; I may have rediscovered my sun just when I need it the most.

**~*~*~OP&P~*~*~**

**A/N This was the last update before Christmas. Happy Holidays everyone!**

**A review in my stocking would be most welcome ;o)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi. Thank you for all your reviews for the last chapter, I loved every single one. I'm afraid that I haven't had time to send individual replies this time around as my father-in-law has been in hospital very poorly over Christmas. Because of this, my time has been limited and I thought you'd prefer it if I spent it writing the next update.**

**Some reviewers were concerned that I was setting things up for a Bella x Jake relationship. I can promise you that this is NOT going to be happening at all in this story. Hopefully the content in this chapter will clear this up. Bella's not looking for romance from anywhere at the moment anyway, we're still less than a week from when she found out about Edward & Angela.**

**Thanks to TwiWeasel for her help with ideas for this chapter :o)**

**Hope you all had a good holiday. I wish you all a Happy & Healthy 2012 xx**

**Chapter 5**

I wake up in a panic, still feeling my skin burning where his hands were touching me in the dream. It seems my psyche is having doubts regarding the wisdom of seeing my oldest friend again. Maybe it's right.

I lie still for a moment and then reach for my phone to check the time. The radio alarm still illuminates the darkness from the other side of the bed, but I know that I won't be going back to sleep for now, and the iPhone _is_ the ultimate insomnia boredom buster.

I have a message. It only arrived a few minutes ago and I wonder if that's what disturbed my sleep.

**Jake 02.07**

**So gd seein u 2nite. Missed u. C u again soon?**

I sigh and drop my hand with my phone in it onto my belly. I wish I knew what to do for the best. It really was good seeing Jake again; he's the master when it comes to making me feel better, but all I want right now is a friend and I'm afraid he's going to push for more at some point.

Maybe I should just be honest with him. God knows, if there had been more honesty in my life up to this point, things might be pretty different now. For now though, I pick up my phone and type out an innocuous reply.

**02.11**

**Good to see you too. I needed a friend x**

I hit send and click off my messages. I'm just flicking through my apps when my phone begins to ring. Jake.

"Hey, Jake," I answer.

"You're still awake, huh?"

"Yeah. Let's just say I've not been sleeping great lately."

"Not surprising really, Bells."

I take a deep breath, but chicken out and huff instead.

"What's up?" Jake asks, his tone resigned as though he knows he's not going to like what comes next. He still knows me so well.

"It was great seeing you today," I venture.

"But?" he asks. I flinch.

"There has to be a 'but'?" I ask, hedging my answer.

"No, there doesn't _have_ to be." His speech is slow and deliberate. "But there is, isn't there?"

I sigh and pause before I speak again.

"I mean it when I say it was great seeing you, but I'm scared that you'll get too…" I struggle to find the best word to use. "_Invested_ in me again." I wait for a moment to allow my words to sink in. "All of the old conversations we had in the past, Jake…they all still stand. More now than ever, actually. I have nothing left to give right now; all I want is a friend. I can't handle any more drama, you know?"

He's silent. I'm silent. I've said what I needed to, and for as much as I was dreading it, I feel a lot lighter now.

"I just want to be there for you, Bells. I'll be whatever you need me to be," he says at last.

"You think you can do that without either one of us getting hurt?" I ask, still not entirely convinced.

"I know I can," he promises. "I'm not the impetuous boy I used to be." I sigh happily; still cautious, but satisfied enough for now.

"Then I'll be glad to let you be my friend," I tell him, meaning every word. I'm relieved to not have to let him go as soon as I've found him again.

"I passed?" he asks, laughing. I can see his sunny smile in my head and I smile too.

"Yeah, you passed," I tell him. "You're on probation though, so don't get carried away."

We chat for a while, just general catching up, nothing heavy. I'm struggling to comprehend how it is that you can just click back into things with some people; how, even after years apart, it's possible to interact with them as though you only spoke to them a couple of days ago.

I wonder how things would have gone if I'd refused to shut Jake out, as Edward had encouraged me to. I can definitely see now that it would have been wiser keeping a male best friend closest, instead of a female one.

"You want to come over and spend some time on the rez tomorrow evening?" Jake asks me.

"Just you?" I ask. He laughs.

"I have no idea how to answer that the right way," he confesses. "I'll go with 'it's up to you'. How does that sound?"

"I'm sorry," I say. And I am. I'm sorry that I've become _that_ person; the one that others have to tread lightly around because they're afraid of upsetting them.

"There's no need to be sorry, Bella. I understand," he reassures me.

"Yes," I reply, slightly out of time in the conversation, but I have a sudden rush of strength and have to act on it before it vanishes again. "I'd like to come over, if that's ok."

"Can I pick you up?" he asks. "I hate you driving around at night in that truck." Huh. Edward used to say the same thing. Why does everyone hate the truck? Whatever. I can't be bothered arguing about it.

"Sure. How does seven thirty sound?"

He assures me it sounds fine and we end the conversation. Edward would be majorly pissed if he knew I'd rekindled my friendship with Jake. That was the last reason I'd done it, but still, it gives me a certain sense of satisfaction.

I put my phone down and roll onto my side. Sleep comes easier again now.

* * *

><p>This morning I managed to drag myself into work. I think the kids in my classes can tell that something is off, but nobody challenged me. I get through it without any spontaneous tears anyway, so I deem the day a success.<p>

I've still heard nothing from Edward since he walked out the day before, but I'm not surprised. I have a feeling it's going to take him more than one night's sleep to come to terms with what we discussed.

I don't have much in the way of an appetite still, but I force down a bowl of cereal and then head upstairs and take a shower.

The bedroom seems so empty when I walk in. I wonder if I'll ever get used to it?…for as long as I'm living here, that is; I've already decided that I'll be moving out, either so we can sell it or so Edward can buy me out if he wants to stay. I've not broached the subject with him yet, of course, but I know he can afford to if he wants to.

Jake arrives early, but I'm still ready to go, eager to escape the house. I climb in the car, and as we pull away I see the curtains twitch next door. I wonder for a moment how long it will take the news of me driving off with Jake to get out. I'm sure Edward will find out; Mrs. Cope always had a soft spot for him and I know she'll never believe he was to blame for our break-up.

"How was your day?" Jake asks me.

"Crappy. Yours?"

"It was ok, nothing special. What do you want to do tonight? My dad's home, but if you really want to we can go there?" He's flinching even as he says it.

"I don't mind," I say. And I really don't; I feel a little braver this evening with him by my side. I know he'll look after me. "What are the options?"

"We could call round and see Seth and Leah?" he suggests. A vague memory triggers somewhere in my head.

"Leah Clearwater? I thought she married Sam Uley?" These were the 'kids' I used to run with when Jake and I were tight. Before Edward.

"Yeah, she did. They got divorced last year."

The 'd' word. I'm the one flinching now.

"They did? What happened?" Jake gives me a sideways look before he answers.

"He left her for her cousin. Did you ever meet Emily? She lived up on the rez at Makah."

"I'm not sure; I don't think so." I shake my head, feeling anger building inside me. "What the hell is wrong with men? Why do they find it so damn difficult to keep their dicks in their pants?" I growl.

"Hey!" Jake says, sharply. "It's not _all _men, you know?"

"I'm starting to wonder," I grumble. "Every day I hear about another one. I used to think you were unlucky if you got a bad one, now I just think you're lucky if you don't."

Jake sucks in a sharp breath and shakes his head.

"It makes me sad to see you so cynical, Bella," he says.

"Yeah, well sometimes life makes you that way."

The tears are threatening to appear now. I begin to hang my head and let them out, but decide that this time I won't. I lift my head and blink them back just as Jake's hand finds my knee and squeezes. "I'm ok," I tell him, placing my hand on top of his for a moment before I move it. He takes the hint and moves his too.

* * *

><p>We're soon pulling up outside Seth's place. There's another car; it looks like we're not the only one's here. Jake catches me looking at it as I get out.<p>

"Quil," he says.

"Oh. Cool." Quil was one of Jake's closest friends in the past. I realize that I actually know very little of whom he is close to now. "Do you still spend a lot of time with Quil?" I ask him.

"Not so much," he replies. "He's kind of loved up these days." He winks and smiles at me and I smile back. "Come on, let's go." He moves as though he's going to put his hand on my back to guide me, but I feel no actual contact, so I guess he thought better of it. I'm glad he did, but I'm sad that I make him have to over think everything too. Jake's naturally a touchy-feely person; I can't think of a single other girl that he wouldn't have just done that to, even friends' girlfriends. It doesn't mean a thing, but somehow I made it mean something. Shit. Now who's overthinking? I urge my brain to stop its babble.

Jake knocks, but walks straight in.

"It's just me," he calls. A chorus of greetings travels back to our ears. There are people here; several people. My stomach flips and I slow. Jake seems to know, and reaches behind him to grab my hand and pull me forward. He drops it before we round the corner into the room, and I'm glad…because there on the couch with Jared's arm around her, is Angela.

Jake sees her a split second before I do and turns abruptly, trying to bustle me back out, the way we came in. I brace myself against him as adrenaline floods my body. He's staring into my face, his eyes wide, and more than a little panicky, as his hands hold onto my shoulders, still trying to force me gently back. I shake my head minutely. I want this. I want to see her.

Jake rolls his eyes, but he lets go and stands back to let me pass. I walk slowly and steadily past him, into the living room. My mind is clear enough to actually wonder at how calm I feel. Angela, in fairness, looks terrified as I approach.

"Jared," I greet him with a nod of my head, as I stop a couple of feet in front of them.

"Hey, Bella! I thought Cullens weren't allowed on the rez?" He laughs and I smile a tight smile.

"Yeah, well, long story," I say, looking at Angela. "Hi, Angela." I can tell she's freaked out by this whole thing.

"Hi," she replies in a quiet voice.

"Could I speak with you?" I ask, taking a step back and gesturing to the door.

"Ok." She kind of drags the word out, and glances back at Jared as she stands. He doesn't notice. He was never the most attentive of men; I remember Kim having huge arguments with him over it. I guess she had enough eventually, seeing as she's obviously no longer around.

I lead the way from the room, enjoying the 'I'm watching you' look that Jake gives Angela on our way past a little more than I should.

I keep walking until we're outside, a short distance from the house. As I turn to face her, I see Jake at the door. He doesn't even bother to duck out of sight. The message is clear; he's got my back.

"Bella, I'm so sorry," she says. And so it begins. "Truly, I am. I don't know what I was thinking, but, you know, Edward's a good looking man, and I was drunk when he came onto me, and—"

"_He_ came onto _you_?" I ask, not really caring about the answer. Whichever one of them had started it was irrelevant; both of them had carried it on. We're beyond the realms of blame now. She frowns. "It's just kind of funny, Angela. He said it was _you _that came onto _him_," I tell her.

"Oh, well, of course he'd lie about it! He's hardly likely to come right out and tell you that it was him now, is he?" she scoffs and I feel my muscles begin to tighten. The calm is fading and I can feel myself becoming riled.

"Maybe, but I'm betting _you_ wouldn't either," I tell her, recognising that the very fact that I can't get at the truth because I can't believe a word either of them says is making me feel like a fool. She opens her mouth to speak, but I cut her off. "Why, Angela?"

What I'm really asking her, is why she would do such an unforgiveable thing to her supposed best friend. That's not the 'why' she hears in the question though.

"Because he had to get it from somewhere, Bella. You can't really expect the guy to go for months without sex?"

I open my mouth and close it again, literally stunned into silence. He told her that stereotypical bullshit that we didn't have sex any more, and she believed him. _Or she says she did._ Everybody knows that line's rarely true, surely?

I look at her face. She's smirking a little now. Not too much, but I know her well enough to see it. The fact that she'ssmirking at me at all says that she thinks she knows me well enough to get away with it. Well maybe I'm not the only one who can do the unexpected.

I step forward and I slap her face. There's the loud, satisfying crack of flesh on flesh as my hand meets her cheek, and her head flies to the side. The next second my feet are running in mid-air as someone carries me quickly around the waist back to the car.

Jake sets me down at the kerb and cages me against the car with his arms for a moment until he's sure I'm not going to go bolting back. I look past him to see Angela struggling against Jared, to follow me.

I'm not moving, but then she calls _me _a slut and a flash of anger propels my limbs. I only make it a couple of inches before I'm against Jake. He's not letting me go anywhere, so I pull back again and allow him to bundle me into the car.

"Holy shit, Bella!" Jake hoots as we roar away. I look at him and he's grinning widely. I'm still full of adrenaline and I begin to laugh a little hysterically.

Suddenly, as abruptly it began to course through me, it drops away, and the laughter follows quickly. I'm silent for a moment, until the emotions that were being compressed burst through the surface and I begin to sob; loud, ugly, crying.

Jake pulls off the main road and stops the car. He pulls me into him and says nothing; he just lets me be as he holds me.

Finally I'm all cried out. I don't move for a while, letting the steady rhythm of Jake's heart beating in his chest, soothe me.

"It wasn't true, you know?" I say at last in a small voice, husky from crying. I still haven't moved. I can't look at him as I talk about this. The lack of eye contact makes me brave enough to want to clear my name.

"What's that?" he hums.

"When Angela said that Edward and I hadn't had sex in months? That was bullshit. I didn't even know he wasn't happy."

"I never thought it _was_ true," he said, squeezing me a little. "I thought everybody knew that's just a line some guys say?" He places emphasis on the 'some' and I know that he's recalling our conversation from earlier where he scolded me for generalizing about men.

We carry on driving. The curtain next door moves again as he draws onto my driveway. I glance at the clock. It's not even eight thirty.

"Do you want to come in?" I ask.

"Do you want me to?"

"Yeah. I could use the company," I tell him truthfully.

As he has his hand on the door catch to get out, I speak.

"Jake?" He turns to look at me. "Do you think things will ever feel normal again?"

He smiles.

"I know they will," he says. I'm surprised to find that I believe him.

* * *

><p><strong>AN Please take a moment to review, I always bear what my readers have to say in mind as I progress with the story xx**


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks to Beckybrit for helping me out with this chapter when I got a bit dragged down :o).**

**A lot of you have been asking me for an EPoV for this story. I've decided to write one as my submission piece for the Team Losh fundraiser. You can find out details of the cause and how to get the compilation at www . teamlosh . blogspot . com (remove spaces!).**

**So, Edward's called around again. Think it will go more smoothly than last time? ;o)**

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer own all things Twilight.**

**Chapter 6**

"Can I have some answers?" I ask Edward as he sits opposite me at the kitchen table, his hand wrapped around the mug of coffee I just made him.

"To what?" he asks, looking at me. If I thought he looked tired last week before I found out about everything, he looks around ten times worse now.

"About you and Angela."

He exhales sharply.

"Bella, please. What's the point?" His eyes are pleading with me.

"The point is that I'm tired of not knowing."

"You know enough; you're just torturing yourself now."

"Well it makes a change from _you_ torturing me, Edward."

Silence.

I wonder where my sudden masochistic desire for details has come from. I guess he's probably asking himself the same question.

"What do you want to know?" he asks at last.

"The truth. It's not going to change anything, but at least have enough respect for me to give me the answers to what I'm asking," I say steadily. He's looking down when he nods. It's a small movement, but one that I catch, regardless.

"The night that it all started, at Angela's house. You said before that _she_ instigated what happened and she said it was _you_." His eyes dart to mine as I offer the final morsel of information.

"You've spoken to her?"

"Yeah. I ran into her a couple of days back with Jared." I drop the information in on purpose, and watch his reaction to it.

"Who's Jared?" He's bitten.

"Her boyfriend."

"Her boyfriend?" His eyes tighten. My suspicions are right. He had no idea.

"Uh-huh. Apparently they've been together a couple of months. She didn't tell you?" I ask, feigning innocence as I take a drink of coffee from my own mug. He doesn't need to answer, it's obvious. "And there_ I_ was thinking the two of you were close," I add, twisting the knife.

He looks at me again. Damn there's still something disarming about the beauty of the man. Those eyes…

I wonder how I'd feel if he were to find somebody new. A legitimate relationship this time. I know I'd hate it; be eaten up by jealousy even, but that's no reason to keep a hold of him. I don't want him, but I don't want anybody else to have him either. They will one day, I know. Men like Edward don't stay single. Maybe he should have though. It could have saved us both all this drama.

"Bella, I promise you that she was the one that made the first move, I told you that before. If she told you otherwise, then she was obviously just trying to protect herself."

"Swear on your mom's life?" I ask. It sounds like something from the playground, but he takes it deadly seriously; he always has. I wish now that I'd used it when I had my suspicions months ago. He places his hand across his heart.

"I swear." Maybe I'm naïve, but it's good enough for me. I nod to let him know.

"Is there anything else?" he asks.

"Yes. She said you told her we didn't have sex any more. Is that true?" I know the hurt that this one fact causes me, is written all over my face. I'm glad. I hope it makes him suffer.

"Noooo." He draws the word out, with a degree of caution. I raise my eyebrows at him, making it clear that I expect an explanation. "I never said we didn't have sex. I might have said that the sex wasn't as good as it used to be."

"Might have said, or did say?" I ask, my heart thumping. I'm just as hurt by what he actually said, as by what she'd said he said.

"I did say that," he confirms, his voice quiet.

"I never knew you felt that way," I tell him, a lump forming in my throat. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I…don't know," he says. "I guess I didn't want to hurt your feelings."

"No, you're right. Going out and telling my best friend while you were fucking her was a much kinder thing to do." I won't cry. I won't cry.

"I know it doesn't make sense. Nothing I can tell you will, Bella. I don't know why I did it. Was it a thrill? Yes. Did I feel guilty? Yes, every day. Did I feel anything for her? No, never. Would I do it again if I could turn back the clock? Absolutely not."

"Have you spoken to her?"

"What? Since you found out?" he asks. I nod my head. "No."

"Ok," I say, happy that, for now at least, I have answers to the questions that had been bothering me the most. "And just for the record, I never needed treating like I was breakable in the bedroom; I'd have been just as happy to have you fuck me like you did her."

His eyes widen and he licks his lips. I can tell the action is entirely unconscious. I feel smug knowing that I can get a reaction from him in this way; it gives my confidence a boost after what I've found out he's been saying about our sex-life.

"Bella, about the divorce," he says. I look at him as he shifts on his chair.

"What about it?"

"Do we have to do it right away? I mean, it's been less than two weeks since everything fell apart. Do we really need to be discussing attorneys and court hearings right now?"

"What's the problem?" I ask.

"What? Aside from the fact that I don't really want to _get_ a divorce?"

"Not your decision," I shoot back, then correct myself. "Actually, no. It was_ totally_ your decision; one that you made when you decided to cheat on me." He looks…crestfallen, I guess.

"I can't argue," he says, his voice flat.

"Good, because you shouldn't," I throw back.

We're both silent for a long minute.

"I guess I can hold off on the court stuff," I say at last. His head shoots up.

"You can?"

"It makes no difference," I say, shrugging. "I have no intention of running off and getting married to anybody else in the near future, if at all. As long as we get the separation sorted out, I see no reason for not putting the divorce on hold for a couple of weeks. A month, tops."

He looks as though I've slapped him. The vestige of hope that he'd shown moments ago has vanished completely. He obviously thought that by persuading me to delay things, I'd change my mind. Not a chance.

"Ok," he says. "I guess a month's better than nothing." I don't react.

"I want to move out of this place," I tell him. "You need to decide whether you want to buy me out or whether we sell it and split any proceeds." He winces.

"Where will you go?" he asks me.

"I'll move back in with my dad until I can find a place of my own. I can't stay here any longer," I tell him, glancing around. "It's too painful."

"I don't want it either," he confesses. "You can sell it. I don't want the money, keep it and put it towards a new place for yourself."

He looks so hopeless sitting there; like a little boy. For a moment my heart goes out to him. I know it shouldn't after what he did to me, and it's not a sign that I could ever get past what he did, but I can't help feeling sorry for him right now. I hope it's a sign I have a good soul and not that I'm weak, because I happen to think I'm doing pretty well with this crappy situation overall, and I could do without beginning to doubt my own strength right now.

"Everything other than the house should be pretty straight forward," I tell him. I'll keep anything I brought to the marriage and vice versa. Are you happy to split the savings down the middle?" I ask him.

"Yeah…I guess," he replies. We've been pretty financially independent, so it seems the simplest and fairest solution. How people begin to organize their way out of marriages once they have kids, I can't even begin to fathom. Thank God we never got that far. "When are you moving out?" he asks me.

"I've got to wait until Charlie's got some time off during the day to help me. He won't let me do it alone," I tell him.

"I could help you," he says in a rush. I pull a face before I can stop myself.

"I don't think so," I say. "Maybe I could ask—" I stop, realizing suddenly that I'm thinking aloud and about to cause problems if I finish that sentence. He's looking at me, puzzled.

"Who?" he asks.

"Oh, nobody. It doesn't matter." I shake my head but feel my cheeks burning from the close call. He's looking at me curiously. I stand and walk to the sink to dump my mug in it. As soon as I'm on the opposite side of the room from my phone, it starts to ring. Of course it does, that's just how my shitty luck seems to work lately. Edward, still trying to be overly helpful, picks it up from the table and begins to bring it to me. Half way across the room, he glances down at the screen. He stops walking as a frown forms on his face, and I know then who is calling me. He looks up at me with disgust.

"Oh, tell me this is a joke, Bella. How long was it before you were rushing over there? Or did he come running to you?"

The phone's still ringing in his hand. It stops.

"How dare you?" I demand. My voice is low and dangerous and I feel a surge of satisfaction at it. "You have no say in anything when it comes to my life any more, Edward. Nothing! Do you understand?"

"He's dangerous, Bella! When will you get that into your head? You never _could _accept that your wonderful Jacob had flaws, could you?" He's stalking up and down the space, shaking his head at my perceived idiocy.

"There's nothing wrong with Jake," I tell him, still speaking quietly. "You're just jealous of him; you always were."

"What's to be jealous of?" he scoffs. I'm offended on Jake's behalf.

"How about his loyalty?" I throw back. "He's twice the man you'll ever be Edward Cullen. He's never hurt me like you have." I'm trembling with anger now.

"Oh, please. You haven't seen him in years. I'm sure if you had, he'd have fucked up a lot bigger than I have by now."

"Ha! You think that's even possible?" My voice is raised now. He's made me so angry, I'm shaking. "You need to leave, Edward. Now."

"And clearly you need to rethink what the hell you're doing! Clearly you're not coping with this whole thing as well as you're making out—"

"No, I'm not coping with this," I yell back at him. "But I'm not 'making out' that I am either. This is really fucking hard for me, ok? Not only have I lost my husband, but I've lost my best friend too. How the hell do you think that makes me feel? Who _am I_ supposed to turn to? I'm not apologising to you for making up with Jake, you left me nobody else."

"You think I don't know this is all my fault? You think I'm walking around out there with a grin plastered on my face? Because I'm not, Bella. This is as fucking crappy as it gets for me too."

"Yeah, well at least you still have Jasper, I have no—"

"I _don't_ have Jasper," he says, cutting me off. "He won't even fucking speak to me since I told him what happened."

Oh. This was news. Maybe the golden boy wasn't so golden after all. I just assumed everybody would take his side. Most of our friends were his friends first, after all. Still, maybe they hadn't chosen either of us. It had been almost two weeks after all and I hadn't heard from any of them.

"He knew something was up," he continues. "I'd been avoiding his calls. Last night I decided I should tell him what was going on."

"You told him the truth?" I ask.

"Yeah," he says, looking up at me cautiously. My eyebrows are raised in surprise. I'm not sure what I was expecting from him; maybe more lies to try and protect himself. I give myself a mental slap as I realize that I'm actually giving him props for coming clean to his oldest friend. The very fact that it surprises me, tells me that he doesn't deserve any credit for coming clean.

I have nothing more to say to him. I wonder if we'll ever be able to have an adult discussion without it ending in an argument. I suspect from how things have gone so far, that if that day does lie ahead, it's a way off in the future.

I'm suddenly overcome by exhaustion. I need him to leave; I can't deal with this anymore. I look up at him, almost able to feel the pathetic expression on my face. The one that he used to mock good naturedly when I was ill. His own face softens and I can tell he gets it. For once, we're on the same wavelength.

"Ok, I guess I'd better go. I'm sorry. I don't mean for things to keep ending this way, it's just…I guess I'm not too good with things being sprung on me right now."

"Really?" I ask, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Good job you didn't just discover your spouse was cheating on you with your best friend then, right?" I regret the words as soon as they're out. Things had calmed down, and as relevant as my comment may be, it isn't helping anything. His mouth is opening as he prepares to reply, but as I hold up my hand and drop my head, he stops. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that," I tell him. Maybe I shouldn't be apologising, but it just kind of comes tumbling out, almost automatic as a please or thank you would.

"It's ok, I understand. I'll see you soon," he tells me as he slips his jacket on. "Goodbye, Bella." He leaves; first the room and then the house. I'm not sure I'll ever get used to the sound of the door closing behind him as he leaves. The sound echoes in my heart every time.

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><p><strong>AN Thanks for reading, please consider taking the time to review – the readers of this story are the most passionate I've ever had and I love reading all of your comments!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hi. Thanks as ever to everyone who has been reading and reviewing this story, I appreciate it more than you can know. Somebody seems to have halved the amount of ours in the day as far as I can fathom, so I am still failing at replying to reviews. This doesn't mean that I don't appreciate every single one x. Things are still tough around here, so it's nice to have a reason to smile when I check my alerts :o).**

**The EPoV that I mentioned last week will be in the Team Losh compilation. It's not available to read at the moment, although you can et your hands on it when the compilation comes out, by following the donation instructions here: www . teamlosh . blogspot . com / p / raffle-prizes . html (remove spaces).**

**Thanks to BeckyBrit for helping me out with this chapter :o)**

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight.**

**Chapter 7**

I don't know who I expected to be at the door when the doorbell rang this evening, but it definitely wasn't Alice Whitlock. Jasper's wife has always been friendly towards me, and _I_ really like _her_, so I'm not quite sure why we've never been friends as such. We have completely different interests and personalities and so I guess I'd always just assumed that we didn't have enough in common to be all that close.

"Oh, Bella, I'm so sorry," Alice says genuinely, grasping my hand as I stand back to let her in. Her face is sorrowful and although I don't want to see anybody look so unhappy – except for maybe Edward and Angela – I feel a surge of warmth that someone I had only really considered as an acquaintance up to now, would feel for me in this way.

"Thanks, Alice," I say, as she removes her hand from mine so I can close the front door.

"I don't know what to say," she confesses as she follows me through to the kitchen.

"Well, before we even begin, I was about to pour myself a glass of wine. Will you join me?"

"I'd love to," she says. "If it's ok to leave my car here? I can get Jasper to pick me up."

"Of course," I tell her, smiling. I pour us a glass each, hand one to Alice and lead her through to the living room, where I pause to put some music on before I sit down. I curl up at one end of the couch and Alice mirrors me in one of the arm chairs. The warm feeling flows once more as I realize this feels like having a girlfriend again. I've missed it.

When it's time to open the second bottle of wine, I decide that it's easier to just bring it into the living room, rather than keep walking through to the kitchen. We're both on the couch now, one at either end, facing one another. Surprisingly we've spent very little time talking about my marriage problems, which definitely makes a welcome change. That seems to be all I've spoken or thought about ever since it all blew up. I've also laughed more than I have in a very long time. Why had I never realized what good company Alice was?

"Why have we never really been friends?" I ask her, emboldened by the alcohol coursing through my body. Alice giggled.

"I have no idea," she tells me. "I wish we had been. I've had a really good time tonight. I feel like we've been missing out."

"Me too," I tell her. "I guess the guys must have cramped our style before now. At least that's not going to be an issue for _me _any longer," I say, intending it to be cheerful but instead surprising myself as my voice cracks. I look up at Alice and her eyes are wide, full of concern. "I'm not crying," I tell her, even as the tears escape down my face.

"No," she says. "I can see that." She smiles and I can't help the snort that escapes at the unexpected reply. This cracks us both up further. The alcohol and giggles combine to push us into a noisy burst of near-hysteria. We manage to calm down enough to take a drink from our glasses each, but while Alice's is still in her mouth, she begins to laugh again, her body shaking as she tries desperately to calm down enough to swallow the wine. She closes her eyes so she can't see me, as apparently I'm making the situation worse. She opens her eyes a crack, takes one look at me and fails spectacularly with her goal, as the liquid comes spraying out of her mouth.

"Oh my God, Bella, I'm so sorry," she says, wiping her mouth with her fingers between giggles, as she looks down at the floor.

"Don't worry," I tell her genuinely, thankful for the fact I have wooden floors. "I'll grab a cloth."

The brief cleaning interlude gives us both a chance to calm down.

"So how are you really?" Alice asks me as I sit back down, our glasses topped up again.

"Ah, well it ranges from pretty crappy to really shitty," I answer. "Aside from tonight. I think this is the first time I've laughed since this whole nightmare began," I say, smiling gratefully. "The worst bit has been losing both Edward _and _my best friend. I mean, who the hell do you turn to in that situation?" I sigh.

"I'm happy to be that someone," Alice says. "I mean, if you want to. No pressure." She's looking at me hopefully. She's not offering out of some sort of pity or duty, I can tell. She's offering because she wants to.

"Thank you, Alice," I tell her, hoping my voice conveys how touched and grateful I am by her offer. "I would love to have you as a friend." She smiles and reaches out to rub my leg affectionately.

"Hey," I say in a false warning tone as I eye her hand in an exaggerated manner. "I only said friend. He's not put me off men altogether." She withdraws her hand and pouts.

"Dammit. Jasper's going to be devastated." She winks at me and we laugh again.

"So," she says. "Next weekend. Do you have plans?"

"Hmm, let me think…" I tap my index finger against my lips as though deep in thought. "Aah, yes. I tell her. Same shit, different day. I don't work at weekends so I'll generally be moping and avoiding Edward." I smile. "You?"

"Jasper and I are going away for the weekend with some friends. We've rented somewhere to stay over near Port Townsend."

"Sounds great," I tell her.

"Will you come?"

I'm more than a little surprised, I mean, I feel like I've known her for a long time after this evening, but in reality I barely know her. I wince a little.

"I don't know Alice," I tell her. Shit. She looks offended.

"Why?" she asks. "You said you have no plans."

"I don't, it's just…I'd feel a little awkward intruding—"

"You wouldn't be!"

"Especially if it's all couples—"

"It isn't!"

Damn. She has an answer for everything.

"Alice, Jasper has been Edward's best friend forever. I'd feel like I was taking him away from him or something…" I sigh and look down at my glass as I swirl the dark red liquid around in it.

"Ok, Bella. Firstly, Jasper is super pissed at Edward right now for what he's done, and he's feeling a little guilty by association, even though he knew nothing about it. It would make him feel better if you accept. Secondly, Edward stole _your_ best friend from **_you_**, Bella. Forget about feeling bad about him and put yourself first."

"I guess you're right," I say, looking up at her.

"You guess?"

"Ok!" I say, giving in. "You _are _right."

"That's better!" We're both smiling again now. "So, let's try again. Bella, do you have plans next weekend?" I open my mouth, but she gives me a stern look.

"No," I tell her. She nods in satisfaction.

"Very good. Do you feel that you would benefit from a weekend away right now?" The warning look again.

"Yes." Again with the nod.

"Please will you come away for the weekend with Jasper and our friends?" The big one. I sigh with resignation.

"Ok," I reply. She raises her eyebrows.

"Ok, I get it! Yes! I'd love to come! Happy?"

"Yes! Thank you, thank you. We'll have the best time, I promise. Ok, we'll pick you up next Friday evening—"

"Really, Alice. You don't have to, I'll drive myself." I was already putting plans in place for if I needed to escape.

"In your truck?" Her eyebrows are raised again.

"Really?" I whine. "Why does everybody have it in for my truck? It runs fine!"

"I'm sure it does, but we're planning on starting our weekend on Friday evening, Bella, not Saturday morning, which is when you'd finally arrive in that thing."

"Did you seriously just call my truck a 'thing'? Because this could be about to go down on record as the shortest friendship ever," I tell her, unable to even pretend to be mad at her any longer as she turns the puppy dog eyes on me.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I had no idea you were so attached."

"Yes, well now you do, so don't forget it. Damn," I look down at my wine glass. Empty again. "I think my glass has a hole in it, it's empty again." I lift the bottle and tip it into my glass, watching in dismay as a tiny dribble runs out. "Coffee?" I ask Alice as I watch her drain her glass.

"Sounds good. Are you always this responsible?" she asks me.

"Only when I run out of wine," I say, smirking as I get unsteadily to my feet.

* * *

><p>My Dad had called to say that he'd be able to help me move out tomorrow, after work. I'd been looking forward to leaving our marital home behind, but actually, now that it's happening, it makes me really sad. I'd had such high hopes for this house when we'd moved in, fully intending for it to be filled with love, laughter and eventually, a family. When I look around now, with the rooms half empty and my stuff packed into the boxes that stand in the center of each space, it's almost as though I can feel the disappointment, palpable in the air. Whether it belongs to the house or to me, I'm unsure. Whatever; it's the disappointment of unfulfilled potential either way.<p>

I slump down onto the couch, a photo frame in my hand. In it is a picture of Edward and me on our wedding day. We're not looking at the camera; we're looking at one another, laughing. I loved it because it was natural. We didn't pose for it, the photographer snapped it when we weren't looking, but it had been one of my favorite photographs from the whole day. I hate it now. I wonder at how it was even possible to be so blissfully ignorant of how it would all turn out?

As a single tear slips down my cheek, I reach for a sheet of newspaper and wrap the frame carefully in it. I stand, walk to the two boxes and carefully place the parcel into the top of one of them. I stand back and look at it, then reach in and take it out again. I'm torn. I never want to see it again but I worry I'll regret it if I leave it behind. Whatever has happened since, it was still an important moment in the fabric of my life. I sigh as I place it back in. I pull the Sharpie from my pocket that I've been using to label my boxes, and draw a large exclamation mark on the newspaper. At least it won't take me by surprise that way. I can leave it wrapped up for as long as I need to.

I'm thinking that waking up to a semi-packed up house in the morning will just be miserable. I have no desire to spend one last night here for sentimental reasons. I'll go over to my dad's tonight with the essentials and we can collect the rest tomorrow like we planned.

My dad is pleased to see me. I know he's been worrying about me a lot since Edward moved out. Whether he worried about me not coping alone, or if his issues are more security related, with him being chief of police and all, I couldn't say. Still, it was nice to know that _somebody_ was concerned for my welfare. I know he'll be happier now he can keep an eye on me himself.

I'm barely through my bedroom door to dump my overnight bag, when my phone rings. I sigh when I check the display. I'm not sure I have the energy; packing up has taken an emotional as well as a physical toll on me. Deep breaths. I can do this.

"Hi Edward," I greet him.

"What's going on?" he demands. Oh, here we go.

"What's going on with what?" I counter.

"With the house, Bella. I'm standing here, surrounded by boxes. Where are you?"

I roll my eyes.

"I told you I was moving out," I say. What the hell did he want? A printed announcement?

"You didn't say when."

"I don't need to give you warning," I tell him irritably. "I fully intended letting you know as soon as I'd taken everything of mine out."

Silence. I'm growing a little impatient. I just want to sit down in front of the TV with my dad and maybe a beer. Was that really too much to ask?

"I was talking to my dad," he says, his tone suddenly a lot more subdued. "That's why I came over to see you. He knows somebody who specializes in relationship counselling. He thought it was something we should maybe try."

"Oh, he did, did he?" That was so typical of my father-in-law; whatever the ailment or situation, he always knew somebody who specialized in that area of expertise, and could help. Damn doctors. "And how do you think I might feel about sitting in front of a stranger and admitting that I wasn't enough for my husband and that _quote, _'our sex life wasn't as good as it used to be', to the extent that he found it necessary to begin fucking my best friend. Think about it, Edward. Do you really think that sounds like something that I would want?"

"My dad said—"

I've had it.

"Fuck your dad, Edward, and fuck you too." I end the call and sit down on my bed, trembling. My phone starts ringing again, but I flick the switch on the side to silence it. Not long after, a text comes through.

**Edward 20.26**

**It doesn't mean that you have to forgive me, or even that our marriage will be saved. I just don't want you to walk away feeling like any of this mess was your fault x**

As if I could ever rid myself of the knowledge that it _was_ my fault, at least in part. If our sex life wasn't great, then that was as much my fault as his, we had to share responsibility. Ok, so it didn't give him permission to go out and begin an affair, but if there had been nothing wrong at home in the first place, then he never would have strayed, right?

I know that I'm forever destined to be haunted by the knowledge that I wasn't exciting enough for him in bed. And if I wasn't exciting enough for _him_, then I'm guessing that I won't be exciting enough for any man.

_That's it_, I think, glaring at my phone. I'm tired of feeling inadequate. I don't want to be the good little wife who only likes vanilla sex. As soon as I'm feeling less vulnerable, I'm going to get out there, find me a man and demand that he fuck me. Hard, like an animal. I'm going to have it rough and primal and I'm going to make sure he pounds into me until I'm sweating, screaming and spent.

I'm actually beginning to feel excited at the prospect, until I remember the condition I just set myself: _As soon as I'm feeling less vulnerable._ I wonder when that will be. Right now I can't imagine feeling anything less than the vulnerability that I feel at this moment. I grudgingly admit to myself that maybe Edward's dad had a valid point after all. I think it over for a moment and then type out a quick reply to Edward.

**20.35**

**Would we have to go together?**

There is no way that I can sit in a room with him and listen to him justifying all the shit he's put me through, to a stranger.

**20.38**

**Not at first, they recommend separate sessions to begin with. Joint sessions afterwards are an option.**

Yeah, not one I could see myself choosing. Maybe he had a point on the individual counselling though; I could definitely use somebody neutral to discuss things with.

**20.41**

**Ok, I'll do it. There's no hope for the marriage though, I just don't want to walk away from this as the screwed up mess I am right now.**

**20.43**

**Great. I'll see to it that it's set up and let you know the details.**

Fabulous. First I get to add a broken marriage to the list of things I never thought I'd do, and now I'm going to be adding counselling to it.

Alice must have known that I would be in desperate need of that weekend away by this week. Three days to go and counting…I couldn't wait for the brief escape from all this fuckery.

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><p><strong><span>Thanks for reading, please take the time to review and let me know what you think :o)<span>**

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	8. Chapter 8

**As always, thanks for the reviews, I appreciate each and every one.**

**Thanks to BeckyBrit for her help with this chapter – especially with her challenge to make a certain character in this chapter sexy. I hope I managed it! Also, congrats to her for her Sunflower Award nominations :o). You should definitely check her stories out www . fanfiction . net /u/ 2144168 / beckybrit (remove the spaces!).**

**I stayed at Fort Worden (featured in this chapter) last September. I've used artistic licence as far as the holiday let is concerned, basing it on (and increasing the luxury level!) of the hostel we stayed in, which sadly was due to close last December.  
><strong>

**So, are we ready to see Bella having a break from so much angst?**

**Disclaimer – Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer**

**Chapter 8**

I hadn't been on the 101 so far out of town since the night I'd followed Edward and Angela. I tense up as we pass the place where I watched her get in his car, and I dip my head and close my eyes as Jasper drives us along the stretch next to Lake Crescent where I'd watched them having sex in his car.

"I cannot wait to get this weekend started!" Alice says, her voice ringing with excitement. I smile in spite of myself, and raise my head to look at her. She turns and grins at me and does this little handclap thing, that I realize is completely involuntary. Glancing out of the window, I see that we have passed by the turn off to the picnic site where Edward and Angela had parked up. I sigh with relief as I feel my whole body relax, finally feeling like I'm leaving some of my worries behind me for the weekend.

Jasper hasn't said all that much to me. I know enough about him to know that it's not because he feels awkward; he's just not much of a talker. I've known quiet people in the past who were shy, or standoffish. Jasper is neither of those things. There's no such thing as an uncomfortable silence with Jasper, and if I could bottle the sense of ease he emits, I'd have a string of spa retreats specializing in it. There is no doubt in my mind it would make me a millionaire.

Two hours after leaving Forks, we pull up at a set of lights. There is a sign in front of us that welcomes us to Port Townsend, and Jasper announces that we're almost there. I begin to feel a little nervous. It's a long time since I was thrown into a situation with a bunch of strangers, and I don't even know Alice all that well. Second thoughts? It's a little late for that, I guess.

We're soon taking a left turn. A green wooden sign, supported by brick pillars, announces we're entering Fort Worden State Park Conference Center

"Conference center?" I ask, confused.

"Yeah, most of it is, but they let the accommodation out at weekends," Jasper replies.

I look at the large, white two-storey buildings that are set along the roads, and the grassed area to our right. I suddenly realize why it's familiar.

"Hold up. Fort Worden? An Officer and a Gentleman, right?" I look back at the buildings, knowing I'm right. Alice turns to me and grins.

"Maybe you'll find your Richard Gere, here," she says, laughing.

"Yeah, right," I scoff. "Besides, I'm focusing on finding myself right now. I'm in no hurry to move on with anybody else."

Jasper parks the car up, and we grab our bags and walk back down the path to a large building.

"Looks like we're the first to arrive," he says. I'm glad. I'd much rather be settled when the others arrive, rather than walking in to meet them.

As we reach the door, a man walks across the grass towards us from a nearby building.

"Hey, Jasper,"

"Hi, Richard," Jasper replies. Alice turns and raises her eyebrows at me and smiles. The man has to be in his mid-fifties with a bald head and a huge grey mustache. I fight to hold back the snort that's threatening to burst from me.

Jasper has stayed here before and knows the man. He introduces us all. He seems pleasant enough, but I certainly can't see him sweeping him off my feet. I smile to myself and shudder a little at the thought.

Richard hands the keys to the building over to Jasper, and after they've exchanged pleasantries and Jasper has reassured him he remembers where everything is, he wishes us an enjoyable stay and retreats back to the building he came from.

Jasper leads us up a set of stairs on the outside of the building at the back. The door opens into a kitchen, with a living area beyond. Jasper nods to a door on our right.

"Take your pick of the rooms, Bella. It's the advantage of being the first here." He winks at me and I smile and thank him. I'm glad to have him on my side; I imagine Edward must be missing having him around. I push thoughts of him from my mind. This weekend is about getting away from the whole mess, not dwelling on it.

I look in through all six of the doors, making the most of having the choice. All the rooms look comfortable, but in the end I choose the very end one. It looks out towards the strait, and the walls are a calming pale blue. I dump my bag on the floor and wander to the window. I spend several minutes just taking in the view and revelling in the peace. It doesn't last.

The sound of exuberant voices travels down the corridor to me. It would seem that some more of our party have arrived. I unzip my bag and pull my hairbrush out, standing in front of the mirror as I pull it through my long hair, smoothing it out until it shines. My make-up isn't too bad, but I brush a little more powder on and reapply my lip-gloss. I realize that Edward was a kind of security blanket to me; it has been a long time since I'd felt anxious to impress anyone, because I'd always had him by my side. He was all I'd wanted and nobody else was important enough to worry about making an impression on. Shame he hadn't felt the same way.

I make my way back to the living room, my stomach fluttering. As I emerge, Alice sees me straight away. She smiles and moves over to me, dragging me to meet the two men talking and laughing with Jasper.

"Guys, this is our friend, Bella." I smile at her, grateful with her again for appearing in my life when what I needed the most were good friends.

"Bella, this is Randall," she says, gesturing to the shorter of the two, a stocky man around my age with cropped dark hair. He smiles and says hi and I return the greeting. "And this is Garrett." Garrett is taller, over six feet tall I guess, with sandy-blond hair. It's not long, but it's not cropped like Randall's, and it curls a little over his ears. He has a nice face. He doesn't have a beauty that strikes me, as Edward's does still, but he's definitely good looking. I'm not looking for romance, far from it – but I'm free to look and admire now, I figure.

When Garrett says hi, he raises his hand in a small wave and his eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles. Yeah, I notice that.

"Hi," I reply, as I feel a light warmth color my cheeks thanks to everyone's eyes on me. "I'm going to make coffee. Anybody want some?" I ask, wanting to escape for a moment. Murmured yes's go round the circle, so I move across to the kitchen area. I'm looking through one of the boxes of food that Alice brought along, when a long arm reaches across me into the box on my far side, and plucks out a packet of coffee. I look up in surprise and find Garrett standing next to me, smiling.

"Thanks," I say, smiling back as I take it from his hand. I move to the coffee maker and he follows me, turning to lean back against the counter, his hands curled around the edge.

"So, did you ride here with Jas?" he asks.

"Yeah, I live pretty close to him and Alice," I tell him. "Where did you travel from?"

"Seattle."

"You travelled with Randall?"

"Yeah, he's my roommate," he replies. I nod as I finish setting up the machine, and turn it on.

"Well, I'm glad it's not all couples," I confide. "I was a little worried when Alice invited me along."

"Actually, Randall and I _are _a couple," he said, watching me carefully. My stomach dropped

"Oh God, I'm sorry," I said, horrified at my faux pas. "I had no idea, I mean…" I tailed off. He was laughing.

"I was just kidding," he says, nudging me with his elbow. "I'm sorry, I couldn't resist. You should have seen your face!" I laugh in relief.

"Oh my God, I really thought I'd put my foot in it then," I admit, swatting at him. "And worse still, found myself in a house full of couples for the weekend."

He stops laughing now, but the smile remains. I busy myself trying to find out which cupboard holds the mugs.

"You're not here with anyone?" he asks. A wave of sadness comes over me.

"No…uh…" I pause, knowing he's probably going to regret asking. "I just split up from my husband." I chew my lip. I don't think I'm going to cry, but the tears can come even when I least expect them.

"I'm sorry," Garrett says simply, seeming unfazed. I nod an acknowledgement. "You know, you really don't look old enough to have been married," he adds. I laugh at that. I feel about a hundred years old most days, now.

"How old are _you_?" I ask him, curious.

"Twenty-two," he replies. I'm simultaneously flattered by his attention, and horrified by his youth. He smirks, presumably at the look on my face. "What?" he asks.

"You're so young," I tell him.

"I'm old enough," he replies with a wink. I'm saved from having to respond, by the door flying open and banging against the wall behind it. In the doorway stands a huge man holding a beer keg steady on one of his mammoth shoulders.

"Don't worry, guys and girls, Emmett's here, the party can begin!" he announces as he sets the keg down and moves to greet Garrett. As he vacates the doorway, a tall, statuesque blond girl is revealed behind him, rolling her eyes at his exuberance. Alice runs to greet her and I watch as they hug. _Just like Angela and I used to_.

I'm grateful for the sound of the coffee machine signalling that it has finished. I turn around quickly before anybody can notice my eyes becoming watery. I manage to get my emotions back under control in time to turn and hand Garrett his coffee. The huge man, who I assume is called Emmett, given his announcement when he entered, smiles at me.

"Hi. Are you here with Garrett?"

"Oh, no," I say in a rush. "We only just met."

"Aah, I thought you looked classier than his usual type," he says, smiling at me. I glance at Garrett, but he's talking to the blond girl now and didn't hear the man's words.

"Emmett McCarty," he says, offering me his huge hand.

"Bella Cullen," I reply, as we're apparently doing the formality of full names.

"Cullen?" he asks, suddenly alert and looking around. "You're Edward's wife? Is he here?" He doesn't give me a chance to reply to his first two questions, and the blond doesn't give me a chance to reply to his last one. She steps up, edging Emmett out of the way hurriedly.

"I'm so sorry to hear that you and Edward split up, Bella," she says. Her words are as much for Emmett's benefit as for mine. It's almost amusing, just how far his jaw drops as he processes her words.

"Shit, I had no idea. I'm sorry," he says to me.

"Don't worry about it," I say, suddenly noticing how quiet everyone has fallen as they listen to us. Alice bustles in to take over pouring the coffee and everyone begins talking again. The blond introduces herself as Rosalie McCarty, Emmett's wife and Alice joins in with a little light conversation. I pick up from Rosalie that we're still waiting for Jasper's friend Peter, his girlfriend Charlotte, and Charlotte's sister, Mary. I vaguely recall meeting Peter and Charlotte once before. As far as I remember, they were nice enough.

My nerves begin to dissipate as I look around. Everyone seems ok. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all.

As soon as everyone has arrived, Jasper and Emmett go to fetch takeout. I'm stretching up as I lift plates down from one of the wall cupboards, when Garrett comes up alongside me and easily lifts the heavy stack from my hands. I notice how the muscles stand out in his arms. I'm pretty sure he notices me noticing his muscles, from the way he's smiling at me. He moves to place them on the table as I gather the cutlery from the drawer.

"I think he likes you," Alice whispers in my ear, causing me to jump. I hadn't heard her approach, lost as I was in wondering about the same thing.

I sigh and shake my head.

"Alice, really, men are the last thing on my mind, it's been less than a month—"

"I'm not talking about a relationship, Bella. Just a little fu—" She stops abruptly as Garrett wanders back in and collects the knives and forks that I'd left on the side.

"You'd better have been about to say fun, Alice," I hiss quietly at her, as he departs again. She giggles.

"All I'm saying is, there's nothing wrong with it, and it might just boost your confidence a little."

"I'm not sure I could," I tell her. She puts her arm around me and squeezes. "Alice," I say. "I really am grateful for everything you're doing for me. I want to make sure you to know how much I appreciate it."

* * *

><p>I can't remember the last time I laughed so much. The beer is flowing well and the company is good. Eventually people begin to drift off to bed, until there is only Jasper, Alice, Garrett and I left. The music we've been listening to comes to an end. Our conversation continues, but then Garrett reaches out for the guitar that rests between his chair and an old upright piano.<p>

"Is it yours?" I ask.

"No," he replies, smiling. "It lives here."

"That's a cool touch," I say. He nods to agree, then begins to tune it. I watch his long fingers as they turn the tuning keys and run gently over the strings until he's satisfied. He sits back and begins to play. As the sound of the opening chords of Radiohead's _High & Dry_ fill the room, my stomach flips. It's one of my favorite songs, and the chorus is more than a little poignant right now too.

He has a beautiful voice, even holding the high notes. I watch his thigh, his jeans pulled tight along the top of it, moving up and down as his foot taps out the rhythm of the song. I'd always been a sucker for a musician. He glances at me occasionally as he sings. I can't help smiling at him. Jasper is sitting sprawled on the couch, Alice tucked under his arm. She has her eyes closed, but she's not asleep; she's smiling too and her fingers gently trace an imaginary pattern on Jasper's shirt.

I'm not _very_ drunk, but I've had enough to feel the effects of the alcohol somewhat. I excuse myself to go to the bathroom, and when I come back, there's no sign of Alice & Jasper.

"Where'd they go?" I ask Garrett. He's still picking out a tune on the guitar strings, but he's no longer singing.

"They turned in," he tells me.

"Huh. Nice of them to say goodnight," I say, in mock offence. I smile to show him I'm joking. He smiles back and sets the guitar down on its stand.

"I'm going out for a cigarette," he tells me. Want to come?"

"Sure," I say, picking up my sweater and slipping it on. I pick up my glass of beer and bring that with me too.

We walk out of the door and stand on the small balcony at the top of the steps. He pulls a cigarette from a pack in his pocket and lights it, leaning his arms on the railing as he exhales. I'm tempted to remain behind him; his ass looks pretty cute in those jeans, but I force myself to stop staring, and move forward to mimic his pose, glass still in hand. He slides a little closer so that his arm is touching mine. I look down at where my sleeve meets his bare arm. He's either hot blooded, or has drunk so much he isn't feeling the chill in the air.

I can see where this is going and now it's happening I'm not sure how I feel about it. Garrett obviously senses my reservations and moves to put a little space between us.

"Sorry," he says, not even looking at me as he takes another drag on his cigarette, clearly not all that sorry at all. It seems he has an arrogant side that should make me more resolute to keep that distance between us, but actually has the opposite effect as I wonder if he's arrogant in bed too.

"It's fine," I say, summoning a little courage from within and closing the distance again. He looks down at me with interest, breaking eye contact just long enough to stub his cigarette out. When he turns back to me, he stands sideways and his body angles towards mine. He gently reaches out and places his hand on my far shoulder, pulling on it to urge me to turn around to face him. He takes the glass from my hand, and sets it down.

My heart is thumping and my head is racing at a frightening speed. It's over six years since I kissed anybody who wasn't Edward. Doing the math in my head, I realize that six years ago, the man I'm now considering kissing was only sixteen years old. Yeah, that didn't help. I look up into his face. The light from the window beside us illuminates one half of it, leaving the other half in shadow. He's smirking at me; that arrogance again.

I'm at war with myself. One part of me wants to run and hide and the other part wants to leap on him, proving to myself that I'm not the dull sexual partner that Edward has left me feeling that I might be. I'm trying desperately to find some kind of socially acceptable middle ground, when he takes a step closer and begins to dip his head towards mine.

_It's just a kiss,_ I tell myself. _It's not a big deal. At all._

It's a little like trying to convince my thirteen year old self of much the same thing. Only I remember feeling distinctly less nervous at thirteen, as Tyler Crowley advanced on me.

I decide to go with it, tilting my face up towards his. His lips meet mine and I'm surprised, because I thought it might feel too strange to enjoy, when actually the unfamiliarity sends a shiver of excitement through my body.

I press myself closer against him, easing into it now and reaching up to place my hands around his neck. I gently draw my nails along the skin there in rhythm with our mouths, and get a thrill when he lets out a quiet moan. Not only can I do this, I can do it and be good at it too.

He's good at this. I guess he's probably had his fair share of practice.

We get lost in one another, our lips and tongues taking their time familiarizing themselves. I don't notice when the energy between us changes, it's possibly the moment when he slips his fingers just under my sweater and onto the bare skin of my waist, but I suddenly realize that things are a little less leisurely, and becoming a little more urgent.

It's a long time since a kiss made me this wet, but I'm more than aware that it is happening now. I also realize that I'm pressed up against Garrett, and I'm not the only one whose body is beginning to anticipate more.

I break the kiss, gasping a little for breath. His blue eyes appear dark and hooded as he looks down at me with a degree of confusion.

"I'm sorry," I say, my voice breathy. "I think I need a moment."

"That's ok," he says, cupping my face and running his thumb softly down my cheek. "You're an amazing kisser, Bella." I wonder if it's a line, but he looks genuine enough as he says it. I get a kick out of his words, regardless. Alice was right about the confidence boost.

"Thanks," I tell him, looking down and deciding that I won't repay the compliment, even if it's true. He's arrogant enough.

He lifts my chin with his finger and begins to move his face towards mine again. My mind is working overtime. I think I need to stop, firstly to let my head catch up, and secondly because if we carry on, I can see things going further, and I'm not sure I'm ready for taking that step with anybody just yet.

I place my hands on his chest, hyper aware of the definition of his body beneath the thin fabric of his t-shirt. He stops.

"I think I should probably get some sleep," I tell him, choosing my words carefully so he doesn't think I'm inviting him into my bed. "I had a nice time though, thank you," I add, not wanting him to think I hadn't enjoyed the time alone with him.

"Ok," he says, smiling gently. "I understand."

"It's just…it's all pretty recent. I'm still a little raw, you know?" I tell him, feeling I owe him some kind of explanation.

"It's fine," he says. He's actually pretty mature given his youth, I decide. I've known guys older than him who wouldn't have been as understanding.

I pick up my glass and we go back inside. I tip the remains of the beer away and set my glass down next to the others that would need washing in the morning.

As I turn, Garrett folds me into a hug and holds me. I close my eyes and enjoy it for a moment before pulling away.

"Goodnight, Bella," he says, bending and placing a soft, kiss on my lips.

"Goodnight," I say, suddenly feeling a little shy. I turn back to look at him as I reach the door that leads to the bedrooms. He's watching me go. I like the look he has on his face, I decide as we exchange small smiles.

One of my biggest fears has been put to rest at least; Edward hasn't ruined all men for me.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm donating a piece of writing to the Fandom 4 Heroes Fundraiser. As yet I'm undecided on what it will be, so if there is any particular outtake from this story, or indeed anything else, please let me know, I welcome suggestions!<strong>

Fandom 4 Heroes aims to help raise money and awareness for 2 charities. Help for Heroes and The Poppy Appeal. Info on each are:

H4H: Is a British charity which has supported those men and women wounded in the service for their country since 9/11 including building "homes from home" at Queen Elizabeth Hospital in Birmingham.

Poppy Appeal: Run by the Royal British Legion which provides welfare to servicemen and women, both current and those who have left the forces, and their families. The poppy appeal helps to raise money for the ex-Service community while the poppy has become the national symbol of remembrance of those who lost their lives serving their countries. www . fandom4heroes . blogspot . com


	9. Chapter 9

**Thanks to everybody who continues to read and review this story.**

**If you would like to read an EPOV covering the Christmas Eve the affair started and the night that Bella confronted him about it, then go to www (dot) TeamLosh (dot) blogspot (dot) com and follow the instructions on how to make a donation before 15th February.**

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.**

**Chapter 9**

I'm hoping that if I ignore it for long enough, that the gentle, yet insistent tapping, on my bedroom door will stop. The fact that I've been hoping this for at least a full minute now, and it's still ongoing, is starting to affect my hopes a little; I'd be lying if I said it wasn't.

I give up.

I somehow manage to get myself upright, and stumble to the door. Maybe, if I pretend I can't feel the beer-induced thumping inside my skull, it will go away. Yeah, maybe not. You'd think I'd have learned from my nuisance door tapper, that method seldom works.

I flick the lock, pull the door open and squint at the person on the other side.

"Alice," I mumble in acknowledgement, wasting no time in turning and heading straight back to bed.

"Good morning, Bella!" she says cheerily. If I had the energy I may just have turned violent at the unnecessarily chirpy sound.

She follows me in of course, closing the door behind her. I'm going to try the ignoring thing one more time, I decide, as I pull the covers up and close my eyes again.

My stomach rolls as she sits and then begins to bounce lightly on the bed near my feet.

"Unless…you want me…to puke all over you, Alice…I suggest…you stop…with the bouncing," I tell her between bounces. She stops. "Did you want anything in particular, or are you just here to torture me?" I ask. She laughs.

"Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes," she says. I groan.

"You're here to torture me," I accuse, eyes still closed.

"I think you'll be thanking me," she tells me. "Emmett makes the best hangover cure breakfasts ever."

"Emmett can cook?" I actually manage to cock one eye open in surprise. As nice as he is, he struck me as too Neanderthal to have a handle on anything that could be considered domestic.

"Emmett's a chef." She's giggling at my reaction. I close my eye again, exhausted by the exertion of keeping it open throughout the exchange.

"Huh," I respond, unable to manage more.

She's quiet for a moment, but I have a feeling she's holding back on me. I sigh.

"What?" I demand, keeping my eyes closed.

"So…" she begins, tentatively.

"So?" I counter.

"Garrett?" Oh yeah. Garrett.

"What about him?" I say, giving nothing away.

"Last night?" She's still trying.

"Hmm?"

"Oh, for pity's sake, Bella! My room looks out onto the staircase, ok?" I force open my eyes, raise my head from the pillow and gasp loudly. I'm exaggerating, playing her a little, but she doesn't know me well enough to realize this.

"You were spying on us?" I demand, getting perverse enjoyment from the guilt etched on her face.

"I'm sorry, Bella, I didn't mean to—" I collapse back down, giggling. She relaxes and laughs too, swatting at me though the covers.

"Bitch! I thought I'd upset you then!" I grin at her until the thumping in my head gets suddenly worse.

"Oww, that hurts," I whisper, clutching at my temples. She laughs even more and I try to throw her an evil look.

"So…you kissed him," Alice states when she calms down a little.

"Yeah," I reply, pulling at the covers a little distractedly.

"And?" She's determined to get something from me. I sigh.

"I don't know! What do you want me to say? It was nice, but it was a little weird kissing someone else. I feel a little guilty this morning," I confide. She frowns. She looks confused.

"Towards Garrett?" she asks. "Why?"

"No, not towards Garrett," I say.

"Edward?" she asks, askance. I worry she's about to slap me as I nod. I sit up quickly, regretting the rapid movement as soon as I shift.

"I _know_ it's stupid. I _know_ I don't owe him anything, but I can't help how I feel. He betrayed me, Alice, and I hate him for it, but I've also spent a long time loving him and I can't just turn it off like that." I click my fingers. "I have no intention of ever getting back with him after what he did. This is all just going to take a whole lot of getting used to, that's all." She nods her head and I'm relieved that she let me get it out.

"I spoke to Garrett," she says quietly.

"You didn't?" I put my face in my hands. Alice shuffles closer and pulls my hands away. It's fine, Bella. I just wanted to make sure that he wasn't taking advantage of you." I laugh at that. "What?" Alice asks.

"If anything, I think I was probably the one taking advantage of _him_. He didn't force me to kiss him. I'm trying to reclaim myself a little here. Anyway, you're right. I need to shake the guilt; I have nothing to feel guilty for, right?"

"Right," she agrees.

"Maybe tonight I'll seduce him," I pretend to muse. It works. Alice's mouth drops open in surprise, before twisting up into a mischievous smile.

"You so should," she says excitedly. I stop smiling.

"I was kidding," I say.

"Why? There's nothing wrong with it," she insists. In my head everything's wrong with it, not least the fact that my estranged husband has managed to convince me that I'm dull between the sheets. There's no way I'm risking embarrassing myself in front of a hot, young guy like Garrett.

"I just can't. Not yet. I have too much self-belief at stake," I tell her, worried that a bad experience will set back all of the progress I've made at being successfully independent.

"Bella. Sexy is a state of mind. Believe it about yourself, the rest of the world will follow. We'll start at breakfast," she tells me, standing and reaching out her hand to me. I look down at my shorts and tank top.

"I'll just get dressed—"

"_Sexy_, Bella. Trust me, he's not going to object."

"Yeah, but everyone else might when I'm putting them off their food. Besides, I'm not sure I can do sexy with a hangover. Maybe if Emmett's food lives up to its reputation, I might be able to start after breakfast." I wink at her and she smiles, before slipping out of the door to leave me to get dressed.

* * *

><p><strong>Edward 09.36<strong>

**Can we meet up today?**

I sigh and set my phone down, aware of several sets of curious eyes on me.

"Edward," I tell Alice, well aware that the others around the table are listening. "He's asking to meet up today." She looks at me sympathetically. "I can't wait for everything to be settled and over with. I hate living in limbo." I push my food around my plate, my appetite having evaporated.

"It does get better," a voice offers. I look up and Rosalie is smiling a little at me. "I've been where you are; I know how hard it is. This phase won't last for ever, and then you can begin to look forward to your future."

"Thank you," I say quietly, hoping my voice will hold. I put my fork down and push my plate away.

It's feeling claustrophobic in here now; I need air. I'm about to push my chair back, when Randall and Garrett appear from the doorway to the bedrooms.

"We're going to try this walk," Randall says, waving a piece of yellow card. "Anybody want to come?"

"Actually, yeah. Do you mind if I tag along?" I ask, standing. I look at Garrett. He's smiling at me and I warm a little from it. It's the first time I've seen him today; he'd already eaten and had gone to shower before I entered the kitchen. At least it looks like things won't be awkward after last night.

"Of course not," he says.

"Great, I'll grab my jacket," I tell him, and move past him towards my room.

When I get back to the living room, only Mary has decided to come too; the others are either clearing away pots, or lounging around. Jasper is picking out a clumsy tune on the piano. I can't help but think how if Edward was here, he'd have had us entranced by now with some symphony or another, played from memory.

As we begin the walk, I looked across at the strait below. Underneath the pale blue sky with its occasional white clouds, it's shrouded in a blanket of mist. We move single file up a set of steps that turns into a steep track through the trees. When we reach the road at the top, Randall and Mary walk on ahead, chatting easily, while Garrett and I follow behind.

My text alert goes off again as we turn off the road and back into the trees. I pull it from my pocket and curse softly as I see that Edward is pushing me for an answer.

"Everything ok?" Garrett asks.

"Yeah, it's just my husband." It feels strange saying those words to him. "He's asking to meet up today." I stop walking and sigh. "I have to reply, he'll start ringing else and I really don't want to talk to him." I send a quick message saying that I'm away until tomorrow and will let him know when I get back. I push my phone into my pocket. As I withdraw my hand, I feel long fingers wrapping around it. I look up into Garrett's face. The arrogance of last night is gone, and if anything he looks a little unsure. I smile to try and reassure him it's ok, and curl my fingers around his. It's kind of nice having a little human contact for comfort. I miss it.

The scenery as we walk is stunning, and the contrast between nature and the old concrete defence posts is striking. It's one of the strangest places I've visited.

As the path takes us back through the woods, we come to a divide in the path. Reading the directions on the card we have, it becomes clear that we've taken a wrong turn at some point, although none of us has any idea where. Unable to agree on which is the way back, we decide to pair off. Randall and Mary take the path to the left, and Garrett and I walk straight ahead, the boys joking about sending out search parties when the other couple don't make it back.

We're still holding hands when we emerge into an open space beside a small lake. Walking ahead a while longer, we laugh in delight when we discover that we've found the beach. The tide is out and so we walk along the sand, knowing we're heading in the right direction now.

As we reach a huge rock jutting out of the beach, Garrett slows. He pulls me over to it, leaning back against the craggy surface and urging me forwards until I'm standing between his legs. I close the distance between us, given confidence by the fact that he made the first moves.

Running my hands up his chest, I shiver a little as his fingers slide up the outside of my hips and underneath my jacket and shirt, until he finds bare flesh. I reach up and around his neck, and pull him down to meet my mouth, emboldened even more by the groan he emits as I take charge.

Thoughts of Edward try to snake their way through my head as I relax into the kiss. I try to focus on the fact that Alice agreed I had nothing to feel guilty about. It works; for now at least.

The longer it goes on, the more heated the kiss becomes, until we're broken from it by the sound of a stranger calling to their dog, close by. We're both breathless as we part. Garrett's face is flushed; I'm sure mine is too. It suits him, making me want to kiss him again.

And maybe do more.

The fact that the thought comes so easily to me, surprises me. I'd been sure that I would have tortured myself longer and harder than I have done. I'm secretly pleased that the whole thing hasn't been so traumatic. Maybe Rosalie was right. Maybe I _do _have a future to look forward to.

We make our way to the lighthouse that stands at the end of the stretch of beach, and then join the road that will take us back to where we're staying. We stop like teenagers a few times to exchange kisses, so it's no surprise when we arrive back, that Garrett and Mary arrived back a while before us.

I sit down on the couch with a bottle of water, and Garrett settles in next to me. The fresh air combined with the alcohol intake of the previous night, mean that I'm soon drifting to sleep, my head resting on his shoulder.

When I awake, I'm alone on the couch. Alice notices me stretching from the other side of the room and comes over.

"Feeling better?" she asks. I smile.

"Yeah, much, thanks."

"Edward called Jasper while you were sleeping," she tells me, sitting beside me. I raise my eyebrows at the news. "He wants to sort things out between them," she continues. I nod, seriously.

"I can understand that. Losing your spouse _and _your best friend is hard," I say. If anyone knows that for a fact, it's me.

"Jasper's not sure. His dad cheated on his mom; he has real issues with it," she confides, her voice low.

"Well, whichever way Jas decides to go with it, is fine by me." I tell her. "As much as a part of me wants Edward to be lonely and miserable for what he did to me, the bigger part knows he needs a friend. I just hope that it wouldn't affect _our_ friendship," I say, indicating between her and me.

"Of course not!" she says. "And I know Jasper feels the same way. Edward was all for driving out here when he heard where we were, but Jas talked him out of it."

My heart misses a beat at the close call. Not that I've done anything wrong, but it would have been awkward to say the least.

"Remind me to thank Jasper when I see him," I tell her, grateful that they have my back.

* * *

><p>The beer is flowing just as well tonight, as it did last night. Everyone's having a good time, and I think Alice was right about the confident thinking. I've been doing my best with it all evening, and Garrett has definitely not been the only one casting glances in my direction. He's been the only one I've been sending them back at though.<p>

Tomorrow heralds a return to 'normality', by which I mean I'll be going back to the shit-fest that my life has become. I don't know when the opportunity for fun might come my way again, so I've made a promise to myself to make the most of tonight. So far, this has involved chatting with everybody and joining in when they all burst into song. As I watch Garrett leave the room to visit the bathroom though, I'm ready to try something new to get my kicks.

I intercept him as he leaves the bathroom, placing my hands on his chest and urging him towards my bedroom. We burst through the door and I close it behind us, pushing him against it and leaning up to fix my mouth to his. He joins in, eagerly, and I relish the sound of him groaning into my mouth, as my hands brush against the bulge in his jeans.

I move away from his mouth and look at him, biting my lip, as I lower myself to my knees and begin to unfasten the buttons on his fly, finally freeing him from the confines of the denim. I'm so goddamn nervous right now, but I'm determined to prove to myself – and him – that I _can_ be goodat sex. There's no such thing as a bad blow job, right? It seems like the perfect confidence builder to me.

I take him into my mouth and begin to make him feel good. _Really _fucking good, actually, if the sounds he makes and the look on his face is anything to go by. His hand winds into my hair, and I make noises of my own to encourage him to hold it tighter. He makes a fist, tugging firmly on it, not enough to really hurt, but enough to make it feel more erotic. I open my eyes and look up at him.

Oh. He likes that.

I hold eye contact as I slide my mouth over him and out again. He's struggling; fighting against closing his own eyes. He moves to pull away as his climax nears, but I refuse to let him, holding onto him as my mouth works. Finally, he comes, and I swallow once, twice, three times, until it's all gone. I'm sure I'm glowing, I feel so proud of myself.

"Holy shit, Bella. That was awesome," he whispers, helping me to my feet.

"You're welcome," I tell him, smiling as I lick my lips. He leans in and kisses me lazily.

"Are you going to let me repay the favor?" he asks. I'm about to tell him that he doesn't have to, that I don't mind, when I remember that I'm supposed to be making the most of tonight.

"If you insist," I say, smiling again. A nervous anticipation is spreading through me, along with the heat between my legs. I make sure the door is locked before I back up towards my bed, dragging him after me. As the back of my knees hit it, I collapse onto the mattress and shuffle back, and Garrett lets himself fall on top of me, careful not to crush me.

In the soft light of the bedside lamp that I'd left on, he pulls off my jeans and panties. I'm nervous at the thought of another man seeing my body, but the expression on his face as he looks at me, diminishes my worries. I assume that he's going to continue to work at the pace at which he undressed me, but as soon as his tongue touches my thigh, he begins to tease.

He works slowly, and by the time he actually allows me to feel his tongue where I'm shamelessly begging for it, I'm squirming desperately and more than a little wet. Thankfully the teasing stops as soon as I have him where I want him. He licks and sucks in all the right places, and then slides inside with his fingers at the same time. Just when I think I'll go out of my mind, he pushes me over the edge and I'm lost, riding out the waves of the orgasm that has claimed me.

I hum in satisfaction as he kisses me and all I can taste is me, on his mouth.

"How was it for you?" he asks teasingly as he kisses my neck.

"It was ok," I tease back, giggling as he begins to tickle me.

"Only ok?" he asks.

"Alright, alright!" I squeal. "You were amazing. Better?"

"Much," he concedes. I gasp as I feel him rub against my leg. He's hard again. _The benefit of the younger man, _I think, smiling to myself. And then I panic a little, because I know that I'm not ready for going that step further with anyone just yet.

"We should go back out there," I tell him, wriggling to try and get out from beneath him. "They'll be missing us."

"They've probably not even noticed we're gone," he mumbles into my neck.

"Well, I've not known Alice all that long, and even I know that she at least will definitely have noticed we're not there."

He freezes on me.

"Yeah, you're right," he sighs, before getting to his feet and fastening his jeans. He retrieves my clothes from where he threw them, and I pull them back on. He stops me before we leave the room, pushing me against the wall to steal another kiss.

"Bella?" he asks.

"Hmm," I reply.

"I think your husband is an asshole."

I will be donating a piece of writing to the Fandom 4 Heroes fundraiser. Please follow the link below and donate to such a good cause, in order to get the compilation from a great group of writers.

**www (dot) fandom4heroes (dot) blogspot (dot) com  
>Fandom 4 Heroes aims to help raise money and awareness for 2 charities. Help for Heroes and The Poppy Appeal. Info on each are:<strong>

H4H: Is a British charity which has supported those men and women woundedin the service for their country since 9/11 including building "homes from home" at Queen Elizabeth Hospital in Birmingham.

Poppy Appeal: Run by the Royal British Legion which provides welfare to servicemen and women, both current and those who have left the forces, and their families. The poppy appeal helps to raise money for the ex-Service community while the poppy has become the national symbol of remembrance of those who lost their lives serving their countries.


	10. Chapter 10

**Thanks for the feedback on the EPoV piece that is in the Team Losh compilation – there's still time to donate and receive it! See www . teamlosh . blogspot . com for details.**

**I'm also helping to organise and write for the Fandom 4 Heroes fundraiser:**

Fandom 4 Heroes aims to help raise money and awareness for 2 charities. Help for Heroes and The Poppy Appeal. Info on each are:

H4H: Is a British charity which has supported those men and women wounded in the service for their country since 9/11 including building "homes from home" at Queen Elizabeth Hospital in Birmingham.

Poppy Appeal: Run by the Royal British Legion which provides welfare to servicemen and women, both current and those who have left the forces, and their families. The poppy appeal helps to raise money for the ex-Service community while the poppy has become the national symbol of remembrance of those who lost their lives serving their countries.

**If there's anything in particular you'd like to see me write, from any of my fics or something completely new, let me know, because I'm still undecided!**

**Thanks to BeckyBrit and TwiWeasel for pushing me when I was struggling to get this chapter out for today's update. We moving on people…**

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight.**

**Chapter 10**

**6 months later**

"It's seems like such a waste of so many years of our lives," I say. I place the Decree of Dissolution down on the coffee table and glance up at him.

"And a waste of the rest of them," he says, gazing steadily into my eyes. I look down. I still don't know what it is, that makes it so difficult to look him in the eye after all this time. If I were to hazard a guess, I would say it's the fear that I'll weaken; I know I'll always love him, even if I can't forgive him for what he did to us. Taking him back isn't a risk I'll take, though.

"Edward…"

"I love—"

"Stop!" This is his latest thing, the declarations of love. I hate it; it tears right through me, down to the bone. "You have to stop saying that. It's not fair on either of us, and actually, the whole situation is your fault, so don't keep making me feel bad, ok?"

"I don't mean to make you feel bad, I just hate that you're throwing everything away. Throwing _me _away."

He's managed to flick my anger switch to 'on'. I stand up, grabbing the sheaf of papers from the table.

"Edward, these are the papers that say our marriage is officially over," I snap, waving them in his face. "I've been waiting more than three months for them to arrive. I saw a counsellor for eight weeks before that, despite knowing the whole time that _this_ was what I needed. At what point are you going to accept it?"

He swallows and screws his eyes up tight, opening them again before he speaks.

"I don't know if I can."

I sit down beside him and take his hand in both of mine. He squeezes my fingers.

"You have to. Because nothing is going to change for me, and we're getting stuck in a stalemate. It's been almost seven months; we need to move on."

Even as I say the words, I feel conflicted. A large part of me does need to move on; I can't live like this forever. At the same time though, I can't deny I quite like the fact that Edward is clinging on to me. I haven't heard anything about him seeing other women up to now, and I'll admit, to myself at least, that I'm glad of that. Seeing him with somebody else is going to hurt like hell, and although I recognise this, I have no way to stop it happening.

"You _want_ to move on?" he asks.

"I have to," I reply. That's as close to an answer as he's going to get from me.

"I need to ask something," he says. I look at him curiously. "You and Jake…"

I see where this is going.

"Just friends," I say. "We've only ever been friends, you know that."

"I just thought that maybe now…I mean, I know he always wanted more. And you're always with him now…"

"I'm making up for lost time," I say. It's an unabashed dig at the fact he stopped me seeing Jake during our marriage. Edward sees it for what it is, and narrows his eyes.

"He's dangerous to be around," he tells me. I take my hands away from his.

"Yeah, well, you've never liked him."

I'm not mentioning the fact that Jake nearly got into a nasty fight when I was out with him last week. Or that I didn't speak to him for five days after, because I was so mad at him.

Jake's the only guy I've spent any time with since Jasper's friend Garrett, months ago. That weekend was great, and it worked wonders for my confidence, but it didn't make me want to go out and pursue men. I guess I'd been expecting Edward to get straight back out there; it seemed a typical guy response, but Jasper had told me that he hadn't been near another woman.

The room is silent. I think about just asking him to leave, but there were too many times where one or other of us walked out on the conversation. Forced civility, we decided, should be our new M.O. I refuse to be the first to fail at it.

"Jasper said you haven't been able to find a house yet," I say. He laughs and leans back in his seat, raking his hand through his hair. It's longer than he ever used to let it get. I like it, although I'd never admit that to _him_.

"I haven't really looked," he admits to me. Our house sold quickly and I put my share straight into my new place as soon as it came through. My dad had been great about me staying back at his place, but we weren't used to living together any more. I know I irritated him as much as he did me.

Living alone is mostly great, but it sucks hairy donkey balls at times. I hate coming home to a dark house after an evening out, and I still can't get used to going to bed alone. I love waking up alone though; all that space in the bed and the house just as I left it the night before. The list of advantages stretches on, but I'm afraid too. Mostly that I'll grow too used to my own company and never want to let anybody in to share my life again.

"_Why_ haven't you looked?" I ask. He shrugs.

"I don't really like the idea of living alone, I guess." he says.

I wonder if I've slipped into an alternate reality. This man looks like Edward Cullen, but he doesn't seem familiar at all. My husband was strong and confident, with a passion for life – albeit a life I only knew the half of. My _ex_-husband is unsure and unmotivated. His laissez faire attitude is beginning to concern me.

"Things have improved with your mom and dad then?" I knew things hadn't been good when he'd been back home for a while. He hasn't mentioned them recently though, so I assume everything's resolved itself. He snorts.

"Things are better when they leave me alone. My Dad's driving me insane. He's convinced that I'm depressed." He shakes his head in exasperation. I hadn't thought of it before, but now he's put it out there, I can see that it could be what's caused the changes in him. I think Carlisle's probably right.

"Edward, your dad's a doctor," I point out.

"Exactly! He spends his whole time looking for the abnormal; for problems. He's creating them where there aren't any."

I turn away and pull a face. He catches it.

"What?" he demands. I look at him. His eyes widen as he realize what I'm thinking, and then he throws his head back in exasperation. "Oh no. Not you as well." His head comes back up and he looks at me in disbelief. "_You_, Bella. You know me better than this."

"You're acting different, Edward. You're not yourself at all. Do you even feel like yourself?" I ask him.

"Of course I don't feel like myself," he spits back at me. "I've no idea who the hell I am anymore! I managed to turn into some cheating asshole without the balls to turn away some whore I didn't even really _like _and wound up divorced from the only woman I've ever loved. How the fuck does that make sense? Who would _want _to recognize any part of themselves in that person?"

I'm stunned. He's crying. I'm frozen. He can't keep from shaking, his head down in his hands.

Finally I'm able to move again. I move across the seat and wrap my arm around him, trying to offer some comfort. I don't know why I can't bear to see him suffer; I guess because I know what suffering feels like.

"Edward, I think you need to start listening to your dad. Whether you speak with him, or another doctor, you need to recognize that you need some help here." He raises his head and nods. "Promise me you will," I whisper.

"I promise."

* * *

><p>"Did you hear about Angela?" Jake asks me. There's excitement in his voice and so the lurch that my stomach gives at the sound of her name, is overridden by the amusement his eagerness causes.<p>

"Of course not," I say, giggling. "You're the only person who dares to speak her name in my presence." He laughs.

"Well, apparently she's been caught having a relationship with one of the offenders at the correctional facility." He sits back, a satisfied smile on his face at the shock on mine. Angela had been pretty settled when I first knew her. Her boyfriend, Ben, had left her a couple of months before she began her affair with Edward. It sounded as though she was intent now on moving from one car wreck of a relationship, to another.

"How do you know?" I asked.

"Ha! She showed up to beg Jared to take her back. Gave him this story of how shitty her life was. She lost her job over it and the guy doesn't want anything to do with her."

"I bet Jared was thrilled," I said, snorting. He'd ended his relationship with her as soon as he found out about her and Edward. According to Jake, he also gave her a lecture on how best friends should behave. She hadn't liked that, apparently, and had started yelling about how I had everything and it wasn't fair; that she just wanted a little of what I had. How ironic that all she had managed to do was to strip the happiness from all three of our lives.

"He called her a list of names that I won't even mention in front of a lady, and sent her away. She has no shame; she was literally begging him for another chance." I wish I'd been there to see it.

I look at him from the corner of my eye. He's in a good mood and I'm either going to take full advantage of it, or blow it apart.

"So…" I begin, ready to change the subject. "Did you think any more about those anger management classes?" I ask.

"Why are you asking me about that, now?" he yells, startling me. I jump about a foot in the air. He hoots loudly, and leans to one side, laughing. "I was just kidding," he tells me, between giggles.

"Holy shit, Jake!" I exclaim, clutching my hand over my heart. "You just about gave me a heart attack!"

"I decided to give them a go," he tells me, still smiling. "You're right, I _am_ getting too old to be getting in trouble for fighting. I don't want to end up being hurt or getting arrested."

"I'm so proud of you," I tell him as I pull him into a tight hug. I mean it too; it can't be an easy thing for him to agree to; I know what a proud man he is.

"Thanks, Bells," he says, squeezing me back. "They start on Wednesday."

"Do you want me to come with you?" I ask him.

"To the sessions?" He looks wary.

"Of course not to the sessions. I'll come along to Port Angeles with you though, if you like?"

"You'd do that?" he asks.

"For you, I would," I tell him.

"That would actually be kind of great," he replies. I know that he lacks confidence in some situations, and this is exactly the kind of thing he hates. I'm surprised that he's even considered it, let alone gone ahead and organized it. I was telling him the truth when I said I was proud of him.

* * *

><p>I look up at the paper I'm marking to glance at the clock on the wall behind the counter. It's only ten minutes until Jake's session finishes. I hope it's gone well; I'd really like him to stick with it and see the course through. It would definitely make his life a lot easier if he could learn to control his anger.<p>

The door of the coffee shop opens, but I don't bother looking up, until I hear my name. Edward stands on the other side of the table.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" he asks, surprise evident in his voice. I consider how to answer. I go with facetious.

"It's a coffee shop, Edward. What do you think I'm doing here?" He looks wounded. I regret the way I answered him now, It was unnecessary. "Sorry," I say.

"It's ok. I meant in Port Angeles, you know; not in here specifically."

"Yeah, I know. What about you? What are you doing here?" I ask, passing the question back.

"I spoke to my dad, like you asked. I've just been to an appointment he arranged for me. He was right. It looks like I do have depression."

I feel for him, but at the same time I'm relieved he has a diagnosis. I was getting a little afraid of how far things would get before he woke up to the reality of what he was dealing with.

"I'm sorry," I tell him, and I genuinely am. "I'm glad it's been picked up though. You can start to get better now, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so. The doctor thinks from what I was telling him, that I've probably been suffering for around a year and a half." I cast my mind back. I think he's probably right. That's when he seemed to really start struggling to cope with his workload at the office. And then…yeah, the rest.

"It sounds plausible," I say.

"He said that depression can put a big strain on a relationship." That intense look again. I avert my eyes, I know this behavioral pattern and I can see where this is going.

"Yeah, so can affairs." I begin to pack my stuff away into my bag. Jake's coming to meet me here, but that's obviously not a good idea now. "Look, I have to go. I'm glad you got help. It was the right thing to do," I tell him.

"Stay and have a coffee with me?" he asks. He looks sad. I think back. He's looked this way a lot lately; I guess I was too caught up in my own sadness to really notice.

"I can't, I really do have to go."

"Cullen." Crap. I'm too late. Edward turns.

"Jacob Black, I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I heard you and my wife were inseparable again." I stand in front of Edward, but he continues to look over my head, directly at Jake. The tension is so thick, it's making me feel queasy as my stomach flips.

"I'm not your wife, Edward. Not anymore," I remind him. He doesn't react.

I turn to Jake. This is just the kind of situation that he struggles to handle. If Edward starts with the bullshit, he'll lose it. It's what Jake does. He's staring back at Edward just as hard as Edward is staring at him. The difference is that Edward's stance reflects his mood lately. _He doesn't care_. Jake cares. A lot. He stands straight and tall, chest puffed out and hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, his fingers stretching and curling.

I hate this. It isn't the first time the two of them have stood before one another like this. Last time it got serious; police cars, ambulances and the promise I wouldn't see my best friend again. I don't want that. Not again. Not for either of them, and not for me.

I walk up to Jake.

"Goodbye, Edward," I turn and tell him, then I push hard against Jake, urging him out of the shop.

"What the hell was _he _here doing here?" Jake demands, still eyeballing Edward as I tug him along the street, past the large glass window.

"I didn't know he'd be here, he had an appointment somewhere." I stopped, abruptly. "And don't speak to me like that, ok? It wasn't my fault." I start walking again in the direction of Jake's car. He catches up to me, reaching for my arm to stop me.

"I'm sorry. I'm not mad at you, it's just…you know how he pisses me off."

"Well obviously your first session didn't teach you much," I say, teasing.

"Are you kidding me? I was going through everything I learned tonight, in my head. You don't think I could have possibly _not _attacked him on sight after everything he put you through, do you?"

I knew he was right. I'd been meticulous about making sure that Edward and Jake didn't run into one another when I was around, for that very reason. I guess it was bound to be only a matter of time before it happened.

"At least I'm the one you're leaving with this time," he says.

"You're loving this," I state. He wraps his arm around me as we walk.

"Yep. Better than any punch in that pretty face of his."

I turn to look back. Edward's standing on the sidewalk watching us.

Jake's exactly right; he couldn't look any more hurt if there was blood dripping from his nose.


	11. Chapter 11

**Apologies for the delay in updating. Sadly my Father-in-Law passed away in February after being hospitalised since Christmas Eve. As I'm sure you can appreciate, it been a pretty difficult time. Anyway, I finally managed to produce an update, so here it is.**

**Disclaimer – All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer.**

**Chapter 11**

I've been staring at the letter in my hands for at least five minutes now. I never paid a lot of attention to the mail before, aside from acknowledging the sinking feeling when another bill arrived, but these days it all seems to be pretty big stuff. First the official end of my marriage, and now the chance of a completely new start.

I do what I always do these days when I'm unsure about something; I call Alice to talk it through.

"So, you applied for it, but now you don't know if you want it?" she asks.

"Well, sort of. I mean, I definitely want it, but I applied before I bought the house. It changes things."

"There are ways around everything, if you want it enough," she says. "It's just a question of what you're willing to do to make it happen."

She's right; I know she's right, but I've finally begun to settle again and I don't know if I have the strength to put myself through another upheaval. I tell her this.

"Bella, you're the strongest person I know," she reassures me.

"I've been strong because I've had to be," I tell her. "I'm not sure I could _choose_ to make life complicated for myself."

"You say 'complicated' as though it's a bad thing," she says. "It sounds like a fantastic opportunity to me."

"Oh, it definitely is."

"So? The things you're worried about are…?"

"My house. I only just bought it—"

"Rent it out," she cuts in. "Next." She's not going to let me get away with giving up on this for any sort of lame reason.

"Leaving my friends," I say. "You've all been really good to me these past few months."

"Bella, you'd only be in Seattle. Rosalie would look after you, and you'd make new friends. That's really not a good enough reason not to go. Besides, it's only for a year, right?"

"Possibly. I mean, there is the chance of more work after the initial twelve months."

"That decision goes both ways though. You can always bail after a year if it's not working out," she says. I nod, knowing that she's right, but she sighs in response, able to read my hesitation in the simple gesture. Picking up her phone, she taps something out.

"What are you doing?" I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me.

"I'm asking Rosalie if we can go and visit for the weekend."

"Really, Alice. Don't—" Her phone beeps with a new message before I can even get the words out, and she announces that it's all arranged.

* * *

><p>"So Alice didn't say what your new job is," Rosalie says as we sit in a city centre bar, that Saturday evening.<p>

"_If_ I decide to accept it," I say. "I haven't decided that I definitely will yet. It's writing classroom resources, you know, like text books."

"That sounds pretty cool," she comments, taking another sip of her margarita.

"I got so excited when I saw the ad," I confess. "The timing was perfect for me. I'm not so sure now though; things are more settled now. Maybe I shouldn't be looking to disturb everything again." I ignore the way that Alice rolls her eyes at me, and focus on Rosalie instead. She leans towards me and places her hand on my arm.

"Bella. I'm absolutely convinced that things like this happen for a reason. If you don't go for it then I'm sure you'll spend the rest of your life wondering what would have happened if you had. Besides, what are you worried about missing out on in Forks? All you'll get there is the same old, same old. You'd never have done anything like this if things hadn't changed; you may as well get something out of Edward's fuck-up, right Alice?" She looks at Alice, who is nodding in agreement.

"Totally. Bella, as much as I'll miss you, I really think you have to grab this opportunity."

* * *

><p>Jasper had decided on hosting a dinner party for his birthday. It's going well so far; Edward and I have been in the same room for an hour and a half without either one of us yelling at the other, or crying. Six weeks of medication and counselling sessions seem to have had a positive impact on him and he definitely seems a lot more settled; he's even started looking for somewhere new to live. I'm hoping these signs that he's moving on will make it easier to tell him that I'm moving away. I know it's not really any of his business; he negated himself from having a say in anything I do when he stuck his dick in my best friend, but the way he's behaved every step of the way since we separated has still made me dread telling him.<p>

Every so often I glance up to find him actually looking happy as he smiles at something that someone has said. It's these moments that are the hardest, because that's the old Edward. _My _Edward. I hadn't even realized that he'd been gone; the transformation into the man that killed our marriage had been so gradual. If he's coming back though, then I know that I have certainly made the right decision in getting the hell out of here for a while. This whole mess was only made any easier by the fact that I couldn't assimilate the man that cheated on me - the one that I needed to divorce - with the man I fell in love with and married. I don't need things making more difficult just as I'm beginning to be able to put the most painful times behind me.

"Hey."

I set the dirty plates I'm carrying down, and turn around to see that he's followed me out into the kitchen.

"Hey, Edward." I step forward and hold out my hands to take the pots he's brought out, from him. I glance up and offer an awkward half-smile as I catch him looking at me closely as he passes them over. "So, how are things with you?" I ask, trying to dissipate the slightly uncomfortable atmosphere. It works.

"Good, actually. I'm well." He smiles directly at me and disarms me. I'm eighteen again, just for a moment, and he's dazzling me. I force my inner teen to remember what he did to us, and the spell is broken. I curse him silently for still being able to elicit such strong reactions, and I curse myself for the moments of weakness I have where I allow him to. If human nature was simple, then every part of me would hate and resent him, but for some reason that hasn't happened. The best I can do is resist him. And resist him I will.

"I'm glad," I tell him. And I am. His old demeanour dragged _me_ down too. He opens his mouth to speak, but Jasper appears in the doorway looking for him, and drags him away. He mouths an apology at me, but in all honesty I prefer there to be space between us. I'm not one of those women who feel the need to stay in close contact with her ex. Maybe it works for some people; all I know is that it's not for me. Apart from anything else, I don't want to _ever_ give him the impression that I've forgotten what he did to me. Because I won't.

Rosalie and Emmett leave first because they have to be up early to drive back to the city. I'm standing in the hallway with Rose as she pulls her jacket on, while she waits for Emmett to say his goodbyes in the living room.

"Not long now, Bella, until we're neighbours!" she says, animatedly. I'd managed to rent a small apartment just across the street from their house, thanks to her vigilance in the local housing market. "Are you excited?"

"A _little_ excited, and _very_ scared," I confess.

"Relax, you'll be just fine. I think city life will suit you." She pulls me into a hug and announces that she'll see me in two weeks when I move in.

Over her shoulder, my eyes meet Edward's. I have no idea how long he's been standing there, but I know it's long enough to have heard what Rose said about city life and seeing me when I move in. He's still; hands casually in his pockets and the tip of his tongue stroking along his bottom lip thoughtfully as he looks away.

Emmett comes bursting into the hallway, still saying his goodbyes. He scoops me up, making me squeal in surprise as he also announces in a loud voice, that he'll see me in a couple of weeks. If there was any doubt left as to what was going down in my life, he addresses me as 'neighbour' as he leaves. I wince as I close the door behind them.

I try to follow Alice and Jasper back into the living room, but he catches my arm gently as I pass. I stop and look up at him as he says my name.

"You're leaving." It isn't a question, for he's obviously already worked the answer out.

"Yeah. I've been offered a job in Seattle."

"Teaching?"

"No. Putting resources together."

"Right." He nods as he looks down at the floor, before glancing up and fixing me with his eyes again. "Were you going to tell me? Before you left, I mean." He looks hurt, which annoys me, because he has no right to feel anything about my business any more. Or maybe it annoys me because it makes me feel a little guilty? Who knows.

"Of course I was going to tell you, I've just not really seen you since it was all decided. Anyway, it's only for twelve months; I could be right back here in a year's time." He doesn't speak, so I make an effort to steer the conversation quickly away from myself. "How are your parents?" I ask.

"They're good," he says. "They've backed off a little anyway, which I assume is a good sign." He smiles at me and I return it, aware of how good a job Esme and Carlisle had probably been doing to nag him into getting back on his feet. "I just really need to move out of their house now. I just wish finding a decent place to live was a little easier." I snort.

"Oh my God, tell me about it. You should see some of the places I looked at in Seattle." It's as though a shadow crosses over his face, as his expression changes at the mention of my new home. He reaches for my hand and squeezes it in his.

"I don't like the idea of you in the city, Bella. Promise me you'll stay safe." The intensity of the moment causes a giggle to bubble up inside me and escape.

"Is this a _safe sex_ talk?" I ask him, aware that the wine and the moment have caused my verbal filter to slip, but not caring. He frowns and shakes his head, releases my hand and leaves me standing there in the hallway alone.

When I walk back into the living room, Alice is just setting up a row of shot glasses. There is an unconvincing murmur of discontent in the room, but she insists that it's Jasper's birthday tradition; sinking flaming Sambuca shots, rather than extinguishing birthday candles on a cake. Apparently it's good manners for his guests to join him too. I'm at the stage where this sounds like a good idea to me, and I secure myself a place next to Alice so I can get a clear view of the action along with my shot.

I feel a hand on my waist and the tickle of breath at my ear.

"You don't have to do this, Bella," he says quietly. I turn my head sharply, preparing to tell him exactly what I think of his advice, but I'm unprepared to find my face only inches from his, and the mischievous sparkle in his eye that says he's teasing me, not trying to lecture me. The sharp retort I was preparing to deliver sticks in my throat, as my stomach flutters and my heart thumps, just as they did in his company when we first met. I revelled in it then; it terrifies me now. I force myself to picture the scene that I usually fight to repress; him in his car with my best friend. It works and I turn away, my stomach now churning for a completely different reason.

He hasn't moved his hand, so I put my own on top of it and gently push it away. He tries to entwine his fingers around mine, but I evade him, quickly bringing my hand back to the front of my body and clasping both hands together.

The quicker I can get out of Forks, the better. I'm not sure I trust myself to be able to resist him long term if he keeps up the charm offensive, and I'm determined I won't give in. Who knew these situations were so complicated? I'd always kind of thought that if someone did what he did to me, then that would be it, absolutely no question. Someone needs to tell my heart that it needs to catch up with my head, because at the moment it's not playing the game.

* * *

><p>The sound and vague awareness of movement, cause me to stir. I'm guessing that it's possible I may die, because it can't be healthy to feel as ill as I do at the moment, without even moving. I cast my mind back. Jasper's party. Wine. Sambuca. Tequila.<p>

I open my eyes a little, just enough to ascertain where I am. I'm at home, in my own bed, I realize. I close them again, unable to maintain the effort of keeping them open. I hear movement again.

"Alice?" I croak. The sound of muffled footfalls grow closer, then stop beside me.

"No, it's me."

I force my eyes open again, to find him crouching beside my bed, green eyes level with mine.

"Fuck," I mutter, physically incapable of a bigger reaction thanks to the hangover from hell. Why is Edward here? I can't remember a whole lot about last night. Except… I gingerly move my head enough to glance down. "I'm naked," I whisper, wincing as my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth.

"Yeah, you did that yourself," he says, amusement playing across his face. I have to ask.

"Did we…" I can't quite bring myself to say the words.

"No, we didn't. I slept on top of the covers." I'm relieved for a moment, but then his words sink in.

"You slept in my bed?" I'm horrified at myself for letting my guard down completely. He laughs a little and glances away, as though amused by a private joke. "What's so funny?" I demand.

"Bella, you'd have had me doing a whole lot more than just sleeping in your bed if you'd had your way last night," he tells me, still smiling as he watches my reaction. I gawk at him while his words sink in, and then I throw my hands over my face in complete mortification. "Hey," he says, reaching over to try and coax my hands gently away. "It's ok. I knew it was something you'd regret as soon as you were sober, that's why I refused to be coerced."

"Coerced?" I begin to frown, but then decide it hurts too much. "Ouch."

"Ok, well there's a glass of water and some Tylenol right here," he says. "I think the chances of you choking on your own vomit or otherwise injuring yourself have passed now. I'm going home." He rises to his feet and turns to leave.

"Edward?" I call after him. He stops and looks around. "Thanks for looking after me," I say. By which, what I really mean is _thank you for not taking advantage of my misguided drunken attempts at seducing you._ As much as I'd like to believe that he'd invented the whole pseudo-seduction story, I've already begun to get flashbacks that reveal he's been telling me the truth.

He leaves, I take the pills, drink the water, and then lie back down. I'm wishing for brain-bleach, but am content to settle for sleep for the time being. It claims me easily, thanks to the alcohol still in my veins.

When I awake again I feel a little better. I force myself out of bed and into the shower, thinking it might rouse me further. It does, but it also flushes everything I'm trying to forget to the surface of my memory. I cringe as I remember offering him to show him what he'd missed out on by treating me so reverentially for all the years of our marriage, as he tried to put me to bed. I think I kissed him and I think he let me – just the once, before he told me that it wasn't a good idea; not because he didn't want to, but because I'd hate both him and myself for it in the morning.

He'd been right, of course. I'd have been devastated if I had taken such a backward step, and worse still, I know he'd have been instantly under my skin again.

I have two weeks before I leave. I'm sure I can avoid him for that long; there's no point taking any chances.

* * *

><p><strong>I may write an EPoV for the missing part of the evening if that's something people would be interested in reading?<strong>

**I'd be grateful if you have a moment to leave a review xx**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer**

**Chapter 12**

"How the hell did you talk me into this?" I ask Rosalie in a whisper as I shift uncomfortably on my chair as I wait my turn. She laughs. I frown.

"I don't recall having to talk you into anything, Bella," she replies. "I suggested it, you were all for it."

"Really? That doesn't sound like me," I say, knowing she's right though because I remember the conversation.

"Yeah, that's what I thought too," she agrees.

I'm about to suggest leaving, when the current customer at the table across the room, gets to her feet and leaves. The woman seated on the other side of the table meets my gaze and beckons to me. I don't feel able to move, and it's only when Rose digs her elbow into my side, that I rise and make my way over.

I've never done anything like this before. I'm nervous as hell, although I have no idea why. Rose comes to see this woman a couple of times a year and swears by how accurate she is. I'm still not convinced by the whole psychic thing.

And then she begins.

She introduces herself as Lesley. I like her immediately. She's friendly, cheerful, and not at all how I expected her to be. I have no idea what I _was _expecting; a soul tortured by spirits perhaps? Lesley opens her notebook and asks for my date of birth and full name. I wonder how many jokers reply to her questions with 'I thought you were psychic'? As she works out a series of numbers from the information I've given her, she mumbles something about journeys and the significance of the numbers she has deduced. I follow little of it. But then my ears prick and my heart thumps with her next words.

"It's been a difficult year for you, hasn't it, honey? I can see a betrayal and issues around trust." She pauses and I close my mouth, conscious suddenly that it's hanging open. "It wasn't a straightforward betrayal, was it? I have a feeling it was more; there was more than one person involved." The woman's looking at me and I nod, a very slight movement.

"You're a strong person, Bella," she tells me. "I don't think you even knew how strong you were until you had to be." I nod again in agreement. She's absolutely right. I still sit now sometimes and marvel that I was able to stand up to Edward; to make him leave when it hurt so much, and when I knew that, deep down I couldn't stop loving him like flicking a switch, no matter how badly he'd hurt me. It was like a double dose of the hurt; once when I found out what he'd been doing, and again when I called time on our marriage.

"Do you know who I mean if I say 'Marie' in the spirit world?" she asks. I'm stunned. How the hell does she do this?

"Yes," I say, clearing my throat when my voice comes out as a croak. "My Grandma was called Marie."

"You were close," she says. It's a statement, not a question.

"Yes," I reply simply.

"She wants you to stop worrying about other people. She says that you need to stop feeling guilty about what you did, that he brought it on himself and he has to live with the consequences. She's proud of you for how you've dealt with everything, Bella. You chose to move on with your life, now encourage your heart to catch up with your head."

I'm feeling pretty damn emotional by this point, but what she comes out with next, hits me like a punch to the stomach.

"If I asked you now if you're looking for another guy, you'd say no," she says. I laugh a little.

"Most definitely," I tell her. She raises her eyebrow at me and smiles.

"But you're going to meet someone. You're going to fall head over heels in love, and it's going to hit you like a ton of bricks."

It's my turn to raise an eyebrow now. Ok, so she'd got everything spot on up to this point, but she's so far off the mark that I can't even begin to take any of it seriously now. The thought of falling in love with anyone, even considering a relationship, makes me feel more than a little uneasy.

I pay my money and leave the table, passing Rose on my way back to our seats. She gives me a concerned look as she passes, and I try to smile at her, although I'm not sure I manage it successfully.

* * *

><p>We've been sitting in the bar for a half hour now. The singer who was performing when we arrived has finished her set and there is music being played softly through the speakers while we wait for the next act.<p>

Rose leans forward to speak to me. We've been dissecting our experiences with Lesley for the entire time we've been here. For a moment my eyes flicker to the area above her left shoulder, where another pair of eyes meet my own. He smiles at me, and then quickly averts his gaze as though embarrassed. I look at his table. There are two beers set down on it, so he's not here alone, even though he's by himself right now.

"What are you looking at?" Rose demands, turning to look behind her.

"Nothing," I protest, but he's looking over again and she's seen him.

"Do you know him?" she asks.

"No, I've never seen him before," I tell her truthfully.

"Pity," she says, smirking. "He's cute."

"Stop!" I whisper-shout playfully. "I do not need any male company right now. I'm happy on my own, thanks."

"Are you sure? Because I could ask him to join us…" she moves as though to rise from her seat. Panicked, I clamp my hand down on her knee.

"No!" I tell her, mortified. She relaxes back down, laughing softly. "Oh my God, Rose, do _not _ do that!" I tell her, my heart still thumping in my chest.

"So," she says, thankfully changing the subject. "We're thinking of another Port Townsend trip soon. You want in?" I pause. "Garrett will probably be there," she tells me teasingly, as though this information will help me decide. I give her what I hope is my best disdainful look.

"I do not organize my life around men, Rosalie McCarty," I tell her. "Not anymore." She reaches across, squeezes my hand and smiles.

"Well good for you," she says. "Too many women do." I smile back and then chance a look at the guy behind her again. He's looking, but again looks away rapidly when he sees he's been caught. I find his bashfulness cute, I decide. I'm more accustomed to confident guys; the Edwards and the Jakes. Despite this, something about how this guy looks a little unsure of himself is definitely appealing to me.

His friend returns to the table and sits down, casting a curious glance my way. He says something to cute shy guy and laughs. Cute shy guy laughs too, shaking his head and looking down. I have a feeling that if it were a little brighter in here that I'd be able to see his cheeks flushed pink. I'm picturing it before I've even finished thinking about it.

It's maybe a minute or so before I realize that Rose is very quiet. I look at her to find her eyes on my face, her expression one of amusement. I've been caught staring.

"Don't say a word!" I warn her, lifting up my drink and looking away, relieved to see the next act taking to the stage. I glance back at Rose. She's looking smug, unable to wipe the smile from her face.

"Well now, looks like shit is getting interesting," she mutters, loud enough for me to hear. I try to scowl at her, but struggle to hide the small smile on my own face. Because for once I feel no inner conflict. I've seen a cute guy, I've reacted to that, and for once my body and mind are still moving together. There's no tug of war; no discrepancies. Instead I feel an overwhelming sense of relief. Maybe there will be life after Edward after all.

* * *

><p>"And this will be your office." My new manager, Liam opens a door, ushers me inside and introduces me to my new colleague, who currently has his back to us. This is who I'll be partnering on my first project, so I'm eager to make a good first impression.<p>

"Oh!" I try to hide my surprise, but fail miserably, as the guy shifts in his chair to look at me and then immediately looks away as his cheeks grow pink. _So much for the important first impression._

"You two know each other?" Liam asks as he looks quizzically between me and cute shy guy from the bar.

"Uh…no. I mean, I recognise you, I've seen you before," I tell cute shy guy, having completely missed what his real name is. He raises his eyes to mine and meets them, holding my gaze in a way that he hasn't previously managed to do. It's disconcerting and intense, but in a stomach-flipping way, not a creepy one. His eyes are a dark blue. I've read descriptions in books of navy blue eyes before, but always figured they were a creation of fanciful authors. Not so, apparently, because here I was gazing into a pair. He's reached his limit and looks down, a secretive smile on his face.

"Yeah, I guess you do look familiar."

Liam clears his throat and there's no getting away from the fact that it feels as though he's interrupted a _moment._

"Ok, so I'm going to leave you two to become acquainted." My head swings around and I see that a smile is playing on his lips as he looks at us. He knows there's something between us, although I hesitate to use that cliche as there really hasn't been anything more than chanced looks. "Riley, I've covered all of the basic induction points, but I'd like you to go through the project outline please, I have a meeting in ten." He looks down at his wristwatch and gives me a wave as he backs out of the door. "Glad to have you on the team, Isabella," he says as he pulls the door closed behind him.

The room is silent for a moment until Riley (thank God Liam mentioned his name again, I couldn't really keep calling a colleague _cute shy guy_), gathers himself together.

"Oh, sorry," he says, rising quickly from his chair. "Your desk is here." He moves around his own desk, which juts out from the wall on one side of the small office, and I follow him. He's obviously flustered, because there is only one other desk in the room, so I don't really need to be shown to it. It's pushed against his to form a square and our chairs face one another, _which should make the sly glances easier to pull off_, I think, suppressing a smile. He's standing in the corner, pressed up against the shelves of books and folders that line the walls. I move to go past him, but the space is small and I can't avoid brushing against him slightly as I pass.

"Sorry," I say. He doesn't respond, but his now-familiar blush is present when I look up. He smiles shyly and shakes his head as he moves quickly back to his seat.

"I just have something I need to finish up," he says as he sits down. "It's only going to take around ten minutes. I'll be with you as soon as I can." The apology and regret in his voice and expression are clear. If I get nothing else from this job, then at least I seem to be guaranteed an ego boost.

He turns to his computer and begins to type. I take a few items from my bag that I've bought with me; pens, pencils, my diary, and arrange them on my desk. I spend five minutes looking back over the paperwork that Liam has given me, and then I give in and pull out my phone and text Rose.

Fastest. Reply. Ever.

I try to cover my snort with a cough. I'm not sure if I'm successful or not, but Riley merely glances up, fixes me with an amused expression before he continues typing. I'm the one with the pink cheeks this time.

* * *

><p>Rose pushes off from the wall she's leaning against as I approach my front door. I smile and roll my eyes, but nod in approval as I notice the bottle of wine she has clasped in one hand.<p>

"Hey," she greets me.

"Hey yourself," I reply. "Can I help you with something?" She's itching for the full lowdown and I can't help teasing her.

"I just thought I'd come over and see how your first day went," she tells me, feigning innocence. She sucks at it, actually. I unlock the door and push it open.

"Not to find out about cute shy guy then?" I ask. She looks surprised.

"Oh! I'd forgotten all about him," she exclaims.

"Of course you had," I tell her, giggling as I dump my bag and head for the kitchen with her following right behind me.

"Yeah, ok, I admit it, I'm here for the goods! Now dish!"

I keep her hanging while I pour the wine and take a long drink from the glass.

"There's really not a lot more to tell. His name's Riley and I have to work with him for the next year! And when I say _with _him, I mean five feet away from him across a desk. So I really need for this not to be weird. And you're not helping with that right now!"

"But he _is _cute…" She's smirking at me.

"Yes, he's cute, but we're going to be working together so I'm just not going there. Ok?"

She doesn't speak, she just raises her eyebrows. And the smirk is still there.

"So," I say, changing the subject. "What else is new?" She flinches for a split second and takes her time answering me.

"We're having a visitor this weekend," she eventually replies.

"Cool, anyone I know?" I ask as I refill our glasses.

"Intimately," she says, clearly uncomfortable. I play along.

"Really? Have I ever been married to him?"

She sighs.

"I'm sorry, Bella. Emmett had arranged it before I even knew they were thinking about it." She looks upset and I feel bad for her, being stuck in the middle of the shit-fest that is my life.

"Hey, don't worry about it," I try to assure her. "It's fine. I wouldn't want him to lose his friends, he's lost everything else."

"He's feeling it too from what I've heard."

"I'd like to say I'm sorry, but that actually makes me feel pretty smug. That's bad, right?"

"Uh-uh," she shakes her head and moves to put an arm around me. "I'd say that under the circumstances, you're more than justified in enjoying his discomfort."

"Thanks, Rose," I smile up at her, glad once again to have found her as a friend. It more than makes up for the ones that I lost.

"So…definitely no more to say on cute shy guy?" Rose asks, trying to force my mood up again.

"His name is Riley," I tell her. "And definitely nothing. Even if I did have more to say, you've killed my mojo now."

"I'm sorry, honey," she says. I can tell she means it too.

* * *

><p><strong>AN I have a feeling this will split the readers here, there are still plenty willing Bella to take Edward back, just as many are yelling at her to keep him ditched!**

**So, Riley huh? Let me know what you think in the reviews ;o)**


	13. Chapter 13

**Thanks so much for the reaction to the last chapter, the number of reviews was fantastic and I'm grateful for every one. I replied to all of the ones I had time to, I'm sorry if I didn't get to yours. Please know I love reading them all!**

**Disclaimer - All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer.**

**Chapter 13**

I've been awake for three hours. Why does time always seems to pass more slowly when you feel as though you're the only person in the world awake? I'd be lying if I said that I didn't have an idea why I couldn't sleep. I'm guessing it's no coincidence that Edward arrives today to stay with Emmett and Rose for the weekend.

I'm annoyed at myself for letting his visit affect me. My conscious mind has been doing a great job of pushing it to the periphery and carefully placing many other, less painful branches of thought over the top to disguise it. My unconscious is clearly far less sympathetic.

I guess I should have known this whole situation was inevitable what with keeping mutual friendships. Does that ease the ache? No. Am I masochistically inclined to wonder how he's doing and actually want, in some way, to see him with my own eyes? Yes.

I have no idea exactly what I want to know or what I want to see. What kind of satisfaction do I really think I'll get from seeing him looking a complete mess? Well I know the answer to that already because I've seen him, crumpled on the floor before me. While a part of me thinks that I would get a kick out of seeing him in pain after what he did to me, I know for a fact that the psyche doesn't always work how you'd expect it to. Seeing him like that…it just hurt me even more.

I finally give up and drag myself out of bed. It's early. Too early to be heading into work and yet I'm too distracted to concentrate on anything else. I waste time by taking a little longer than usual to get ready.

By the time I reach my office I'm wondering if I should spend longer on my morning routine permanently. I've definitely had more than my fair share of appreciative looks on my way in, and even Stan, the interminably miserable security guard smiled at me this morning. I have to admit, that really threw me.

I'm crouching on the floor sorting through papers in the box beneath my desk, when Riley walks in. I call out a greeting as I hear him dump his bag on his desk with a muffled thump. He says hi in return and is half way through asking how I am, when I finally find the article I've been searching for and straighten up with it clutched in my hand. His voice trails off and I see his Adam's apple betray the discreet way he swallowed as his eyes skimmed over me, before finding my face again. I realize that the action doesn't make me feel uneasy the way it did when a guy on the street did the same thing earlier. I do feel something though as my stomach flips. Great, my nerves are really on edge today.

And there _he_ goes again forcing his way into my head uninvited.

I have no idea what Riley is thinking, but I'm guessing he doesn't know my mind is on my ex-husband as we stand looking at one another. I force myself to concentrate, clearing my throat to reply to the question he barely finished asking. I suddenly feel a little self-conscious, realizing that the blush that is usually Riley's trademark is actually creeping across _my _cheeks. I look away, fighting the small smile that persists on my lips as I lower myself into my chair and scoot it closer to the desk.

As I place my papers down in the space beside my keyboard, I risk a glance up at Riley. He's moved round to the coat hooks on the wall behind the door, his back to me as he peels off his jacket. His shirt is snug enough for me to catch a glimpse of the planes of his back as he moves his shoulders, and his shirt sleeves are casually rolled up to his elbows. I'm aware he's looking at me again before I realize that I'm staring at his forearms. My God, I really need to get a grip today.

Riley and I have fallen into an easy pattern of going to lunch together this week. Today as we sit in the café, he invites me to join him and a group of our colleagues this evening. I pause for what I feel is a socially acceptable length of time before I accept. I figure that waiting until he finishes the question is about right. In truth I'd have accepted if Stan had asked me out tonight, anything to stop me driving myself crazy.

* * *

><p>I've noticed Alistair repeatedly looking from Riley to me and back again. We're sitting side by side, but not for any reason other than that we were the last to arrive, both anxious to complete the project section we've been working on before the weekend. I'm happy enough sitting beside Riley anyway, my first week has been pretty busy and I've not really had a chance to get to know the others around the table yet. I recognise Alistair; he's the friend that Riley was with when I saw him for the first time at this very bar when I was with Rose.<p>

Riley's still far from confident around me, but tonight I notice how quietly attentive he is. He pulls up an extra chair for himself when we arrive, checking with me that I still have enough space when he tucks it in close to mine. He watches my drink and insists on buying me another when it gets close to the bottom of the glass. I wonder whether anyone other than Alistair has noticed, but later, when I get back from a bathroom visit to find Riley's face flushed and the others still laughing at something one of them has said, I feel as though I have my answer. I smile awkwardly, wondering what I missed, as I sit back down.

"I was just saying to Riley, Bella, that the two of you must be cosy in that tiny office of yours," Stefan tells me with a wicked glint in his eye. I have a feeling that the way he just presented it to me wasn't the exact same way he worded it to Riley.

"Oh…uh, it's fine actually. I think we have all the space we need," I reply politely, pointedly ignoring the teasing behind the statement.

"Well at least you don't have to worry that they'll move anyone new in with you," Senna cut in. "Makenna and I were fine in our office, and then they went and moved Stefan in too." She glances at him slyly and then leaned towards me. "It's never been the same since," she mock-whispered. "He gets this instant look of panic as soon as either of us mentions any_ girl stuff_." We both giggle. "Anyway," she continues. "If I had to choose one of the guys to share with, I'd pick Ri." She ruffles his hair affectionately and he ducks his head, laughing as he tries to move out of her way. His shoulder bumps mine with the movement and he's quick to straighten up, his hand instinctively shooting out to touch me in an apology. I smile at him to reassure him it's fine and he smiles back before looking away again.

We drink more. It gets later. The bar fills up. Our table empties. And then there are three.

Alistair has stayed because he's waiting for a call from his girlfriend to say she's ready to meet up after her shift at the restaurant where she works. I've stayed because I know as soon as I get home I'll start brooding again. Also I'm actually having a good time, which surprises me a little. It's been a while since I had an evening quite as carefree as this.

Another half hour passes and Alistair's girlfriend calls.

"Well, thanks guys, it's been great," he says as he stands and pulls his jacket off the back off his chair. He pulls it on, reaches across to shake Riley's hand and then bends to kiss me on the cheek. "I'll see you both on Monday." We say goodbye and he leaves.

The silence is a little awkward for a moment while we adjust to being alone at the table. Despite the amount of room that we now have, I notice that our chairs are still close together, Riley's knee resting gently against my leg. I wonder if he's even noticed. I'm guessing not.

"Are you staying a while or do you need to leave anytime soon?" Riley asks me, leaning in slightly to be heard above the music and other voices in the room.

"I'm happy to stay if you are," I reply. I smile at him and he returns it. He has a great smile, I decide. When it's directed right at me like it is at the moment, I feel myself warming inside.

"Oh, I'm definitely happy to stay," he says, raising an eyebrow teasingly. The alcohol seems to have had an effect; it's the first time I've known him to flirt with me. "It's been nice spending time with you outside of work, Bella."

"Yeah, you too," I assure him, reaching for his hand and squeezing it.

In general the thought of dating anybody after so long with one person, makes me feel a little sick, if I'm totally honest. Somehow though, when I'm with Riley, my worries ease.

He puts his other hand on top of mine to hold it there and gently strokes his thumb cross the top of my hand. My stomach stirs a little, and at the same moment a group across the bar begin to laugh loudly. The sound startles me and I look up. The slight stirring was nothing compared to the full flip my stomach does as I see Edward standing ten feet away, staring right at us. Emmett is beside him, his back to us and his hand on Edward's chest as he speaks intently to him.

I curse under my breath. This has quickly turned from the best night I've had in a while to the most awkward.

I see nothing but pain on Edward's face as he looks on. It's in his eyes, the sneer on his lips and the crease in his brow. It's in the way he clenches his hands into fists at his side. It's in the way he pushes Emmett's hand angrily from his body as he turns and stalks towards the gents' bathroom, shoving the door open angrily as he goes. Emmett follows.

Riley's looking at me strangely now; he hadn't noticed Edward watching us. I gently reclaim my hand from between his two. He has no idea why I've done this and apologises to me. No, I insist. It's not what he thinks, I was enjoying it. It's just…it's just that somebody I know saw us.

"Who?" he asks, glancing around.

"Nobody important," I reply. "It's just…I don't know. Maybe I'm not ok with the whole PDA thing right now."

He really needs to stop apologising. I feel bad enough without him taking the blame. I wonder whether I should have told him the truth, but I don't want to frighten him off. I mean, he only gets as far as holding my hand before he has to meet my pissed ex-husband? Yeah, I don't think so.

I realize quickly that unless I get out of here then the choice may well be taken out of my hands when Edward decides to emerge from the bathroom.

"I'm sorry, I have to go," I say, standing up and grabbing my coat and purse. Riley jumps up too.

"Wait," he urges, a slightly panicked look on his face. "At least let me see you home. I want to make sure you get back safe; it's late," he says.

I glance nervously towards the bathroom again.

"Fine," I say, grabbing his hand. "But come on." I drag him from the bar and into a cab sitting at the kerbside. He says very little on the ten minute drive back to my place, although I see the way he keeps throwing concerned glances in my direction from the corner of my eye. I appreciate the breathing space that the silence provides, and decide I'll tell him the truth about what just happened when we get back. There's no way I can cover up that exit, without coming off as being pretty strange. I hope that if nothing else, the truth will at least make him understand why I just acted as I did.

Riley begins to ask the driver to wait for him, until I tell him that I'd like it if he'd come inside so I can explain. He agrees, insisting on paying the driver before he follows me out. The look on his face tells me that he's unsure whether he's doing the right thing. I'm almost sure by now that he has me down as a crazy.

I unlock the front door and lead the way inside, flicking on lights as I go.

"Coffee?" I ask him.

"Yeah, coffee sounds good," he says, glancing around the small apartment. I gesture for him to take a seat while I make it.

"So," I begin, unable to look at him as I decide to get it over with. "When I said that the person who saw us at the bar was nobody important, well that wasn't strictly true."

"Oh?" he says. I turn to face him, leaning back against the counter as the coffee pot begins to bubble behind me. He looks thoroughly confused now.

"It was my ex-husband. I had no idea he'd be there and it took me by surprise when I looked up and he was just standing staring at us. I freaked out I guess. I'm sorry."

Riley lets out a light laugh. I raise my eyebrows at him, unsure what's so funny.

"It's ok," he says. "I'm just relieved. I thought it was something I did." He quickly regains his composure. "I'm sorry. Have you been divorced long?"

"Not even a year," I tell him. I don't keep track of how long it's been and I can't face thinking about it to work it out properly. Even now I feel the familiar pain tugging at my chest.

"It's still hard to see him?"

I let out a cold laugh.

"I should hate his fucking guts," I spit out. "The bastard had an affair with my best friend for nine months."

Riley looks stunned. He shakes his head, stumbling over his words.

"But you don't?" he asks.

"It doesn't matter," I tell him, turning to pour the coffee. "There's no way back for Edward and me. It was too much."

I don't hear him get up and approach, but the next thing I feel is his hands gently turning me around and pulling me into a hug. I wrap my arms around him and press myself against him. He smells heavenly and I inhale deeply. It makes me feel giddy in the best way.

There are so many emotions running through me now. With the alcohol too it's a heady mix. Riley pulls gently away and studies my face. While I assume his intention is to make sure that I'm ok, within seconds of our eyes meeting we're drawn back together again. I can't say who moves to close the distance first, but our lips are soon gently touching.

Oh those lips.

He kisses me and holy shit can he kiss. I'm lost, completely and utterly lost as his mouth moves with mine, teasingly…so teasingly that eventually I can't hold back any longer and slip my tongue out to taste him. And the groan that he rewards me with hits my brain, slips down into my heart and continues down to the area between my thighs, awakening it as surely as if he's caressed it with his fingers. Oh, now there's a visual that has a moan escaping from my mouth too.

Riley's a gentleman. Or a tease, it depends completely on whichever way you want to look at it. I have a feeling that on some level he knows that I'm not ready for more and he's making sure that I don't do anything that I might regret, however much he wants to himself. And I'm pretty sure he _does_ want to because the proof pressed against me several times during the kiss. The kiss went on for so long. And actually, I'd have been content for it to last a hell of a lot longer, but by the time he reluctantly pulled away we were both already a hot mess, gasping for breath and all but grabbing at one another. There's no way that kiss would have carried on as it was; we were fast approaching the point of ignition.

His eyes are blazing, causing my breath to hitch as I look into them. I reach up and pull his full bottom lip down with my thumb, remembering how it felt on my own mouth. I'm stretching my face back up towards his when the doorbell sounds, deafeningly loud in the silence. It stops but then rings again. I look up at Riley.

"It's him isn't it?" he says. The bell sounds again. I rub my hands over my face. I really don't want to deal with him now. Or ever, actually; I'm done. We're done. As far as I'm concerned there's nothing left to say and this is none of his goddamn business.

"Do you want me to answer it?" he asks over the sound of the bell again.

"You'd do that?" I ask, a little taken aback. The offer doesn't fit with his shy nature somehow. He nods.

"I will if you want me to." I'm touched by his offer and I would love to not have to deal with this myself, but I know Edward and I know that if Riley goes to the door now that he'll just get more worked up. I'll end up having to see him regardless.

"Thank you, but no, I'll be ok. I'll be right back." I push him back onto a chair, place his coffee next to him and take a deep breath as I prepare to face Edward.

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><p><strong>AN Love or hate the idea of Riley & Bella together, I hope you liked the chapter!**

**Please leave a review – I'd love to hit 1k with this update :o)**


	14. Chapter 14

**Hello! A big thank you for all of the reviews for the last chapter – you got this story up to 1000 and way over! I'm sorry I haven't been able to reply to the majority of them, but please know that I really am grateful for every person that takes the time to read and leave a review.**

**Another thing I'd like to mention: Some of you noticed that I'd changed the character list on this story from 'Bella & Edward' to 'Bella'. The main reason for this is that this is essentially Bella's story. When you add a story to ffn you are asked to name the main characters – characters, not pairing, although apparently a lot of people use this as an indicator of pairing. This began as a one shot and the characters at the time depicted that. To avoid any further confusion I've now deleted Edward.**

**To those of you asking me to tell you if there will be an Edward x Bella HEA – I'm sorry but I'm not going to say. A lot of other readers don't want to know so I'm not going to spoil it. I've never promised a HEA for this story, other than I've promised to leave Bella in a good place emotionally. If you feel so strongly EITHER WAY, then you may want to consider not reading on because I refuse to make promises for the outcome of this story. If you do decide to read on, please don't flame me if you don't get the outcome you want, this is my story and I'll write it in a way that satisfies me. Of Pleasure & Pain is close to my heart and I hope you'll respect any decisions that I make with it.**

**Ok, that's my final word on the issue, here's the next chapter. Enjoy xx**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. <strong>

**Chapter 14**

The doorbell sounds once again as I reach it. I take a deep breath and pull the door open, mentally preparing myself for the impending emotional draining I'm sure I'm about to be privy to.

"Rosalie?" I peer at her in the glow of the porch light. I'm shocked, first of all by it not being who I expected it to be, and then again by her appearance. She's frantic, her eyes wild and overflowing with tears and her body bouncing with impatience as she moves around on the doorstep.

"Emmett's been hurt," she gasps. My brain is moving quickly to try and work out what's going on.

"Emmett has?" I ask, confused. "But I just saw him. He was at Roscoe's with Edward." She's nodding, her face scrunching up again.

"Edward just called me. They were leaving and Em was hit by a car as they tried to catch a cab."

"Oh my God," I exclaim. "Is he ok?"

"I'm not sure. Edward was pretty panicky on the phone, it was hard to follow what he was saying. I really just need to go to the hospital. Will you come with me?"

"Of course I will," I reassure her, reaching forward and pulling her inside by her hand. "Just let me grab my stuff."

She follows me through to the kitchen. Riley stands when he sees us enter. I'm not sure whether he heard any of the conversation or not.

"Rose, this is Riley. Riley, this is my friend Rosalie. Her husband was with my ex at Roscoe's before. He's been in an accident so I'm going to go with her to the ER," I explain.

"Is he badly hurt?" he asks. I glance at Rose who flinches as more tears stream down her cheeks.

"We're not sure. I guess we'll find out when we get there," I tell him as I slip my jacket on.

"I'll come with you," he offers immediately, a concerned frown wrinkling his brow.

"That's really thoughtful of you, but I'm sure we'll be ok," I tell him. "Although it'll probably be easier for you to catch a cab home from the medical center if you want to ride with us? It's up to you."

"Yeah, ok, I'll do that," he says.

Rose is edging back towards the hallway by now, eager to leave.

"Are you sure you're ok to drive?" I ask her. She says she is, but I'm not convinced. At least she's legal I guess; the amount of alcohol Riley and I have consumed means that there's no way we'll be driving anywhere tonight. Not that I'm feeling at all drunk since Rose showed up with her news.

We follow Rose back across the street to her house. Riley and I walk a couple of paces behind, struggling to keep up with her.

"I'm sorry," I mouth to Riley. I don't mean for this, because obviously it's not something I had any influence over, but just for the way the whole evening has gone since we were left alone.

"It's ok," he whispers, giving me a reassuring half-smile. I'm more than a little relieved that he's not putting any pressure on me or making this difficult. I feel like he's there for me but he's not pushing me to acknowledge it. It's what friends do, right?

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><p>Rose is in the car and is starting the engine when we reach it. I hesitate, but Riley indicates that I should go ahead and sit in the front as he opens the back door.<p>

Thoughts of Riley evaporate and leave something bigger gnawing at me. I'm worried. Worried for Emmett, worried for Rose. Even worried for Edward. He and Emmett have known one another for a long time and he witnessed whatever happened. That's pretty shitty.

The inside of the car is quiet, other than the occasional sniffing sounds that Rosalie makes. About half way there I notice her shoulders shaking and she suddenly lets out a strangled sob. The sound shoots up my spine, chilling me as she claps a hand across her mouth as the other grips the steering wheel. I place my hand on her shoulder, trying my best to offer her a little comfort.

"Hey," I say to let her know I'm there. She turns her head for a moment and makes eye contact with me in the dim light. I can read the fear in her eyes; the absolute terror of the worst case scenario that she is imagining awaits her.

When we reach the medical center, she pulls sharply into a space in the parking lot. We all get out and she locks the car as she begins to walk quickly towards the main entrance. I move to follow her, but then I remember Riley. I turn around to him, then glance back to see Rose disappearing. I pause, conflicted. I feel I at least owe him a goodbye. As I turn back he waves me away.

"Go," is all he says. I nod and begin to back away. I shoot him a grateful look.

"Thanks, Riley."

"No worries. Let me know how things go," he says. I tell him I will, then with a quick wave I turn and run to catch up with Rosalie.

When I find her she's already moving away from the reception desk and towards a corridor.

"Rose!" I call out. She turns and I catch up, linking my arm through hers as I fall in step with her. We turn down another corridor and through a set of double doors. Sitting on a chair to the right of the hallway, head down and knees bouncing at one hundred miles an hour is Edward. His head swings up when Rosalie calls his name. He gets quickly to his feet and she rushes to him, throwing herself at him and wrapping her arms around him.

I hang back for a moment, feeling a little awkward. Edward has his eyes squeezed closed as he hugs Rose back, but then they open and they're fixed on me. He flattens his mouth into a kind of greeting; not quite a smile, something more fitting of the circumstances.

After a moment, Rose lets go and begins to rattle off question after question at Edward. He answers when he can, and when he can't he simply tells her that he doesn't know. Emmett was hit by a car; the cops said the driver was drunk. Em's almost certainly broken his leg, but the doctors are more concerned about the fact he hit his head and lost consciousness. Nobody's told him anything for a while and they won't let him in to see him. He points Rose in the direction of the nurse's station. I move to follow her but he gently holds onto my arm before I can go.

"Edward, I really need to…" I trail off, indicating towards Rose. He nods and lets go, sinking back into his seat. "I'll come back," I promise, looking back at him before I jog after my friend.

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><p>She's speaking with a nurse when I reach her. The nurse is just telling her that she'll take her through. I'm about to ask Rose if she wants me to come with her when the nurse announces that she's sorry but we can't both go. I tell her it's fine, I squeeze Rosalie's arm and tell her I'll wait.<p>

Edward watches me as I walk back down the hallway, his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped together. He's leaning forward, his cheek resting on his hands as his head inclines towards me. I sit down next to him.

"They've taken her in to see him," I tell him. He nods and looks away from me.

"It was my fault," he croaks. I make a dismissive sound.

"That's ridiculous, Edward," I tell him. Unless you were the driver of the car that hit him?" I wait for a second. "No, I didn't think so." I shake my head.

"It was me who wanted to leave. Em wanted to stay and I made him leave." He rubs his hand across his face. I turn to face him.

"It's not. Your. Fault. Ok?" He looks at me but I guess he can tell by my face that I'm not having this discussion with him because he says no more. I can tell he doesn't believe it though.

Silence.

Edward taps his foot and I eye it as I feel myself becoming irritated by the sound. I look pointedly at his foot and then up at his face. He stops tapping.

Silence.

"Is he your boyfriend?"

Aah. The elephant in the room.

"No."

"Oh."

He's desperate to know more, I can tell.

Silence.

"He came here with you. I saw him." He nods toward the window opposite us which looks out onto the parking lot.

"Yes, he did."

"That was good of him."

"He's a good guy," I tell him, choosing to emit the fact that he only came to get a cab. He _had_ said he'd come in, it was only because I'd said not to that he'd left. And thank God I had, just imagining how awkward things would be if I was sitting here with Edward on one side and Riley on the other is enough to bring me out in a nervous rash. I wait for him to respond, but he doesn't.

We're both quiet again.

"How have you been?" I ask him. And I'm surprised to find that I genuinely want to hear his answer.

"Fine," he answers, looking at me curiously. It's his default answer to the question, I can tell. His face is closed and guarded, his brow pulled into a frown and his lips tight.

"And now the truth?" I push.

"It is true, mostly. Good days and bad days, you know?" I nod. Because I do know. My God do I know. Those bad days still feel like a sucker punch to the guts and I tell him so. He chuckles quietly and nods.

"But my good days are better than the good days I used to have. Before…you know? So I guess, in some ways I'm better off," I tell him.

The look on his face tells me that my words just hit him like the aforementioned sucker punch. I've spent a lot of time thinking about this though, so I know it's true.

"Really?" he asks.

"Yeah," I reply, sighing.

"We were that broken?"

Silence. I stare out of the window not saying a word.

"Yeah, I guess we were," he says, answering his own question. He shifts in his seat so he's turned toward me a little. "I really am s—" I move quickly, turning and holding my hand up.

"Please, just don't. Ok? It's done with. You've already said it more times than I ever wanted to hear. Close the lid on it, Edward. Please?" My heart's beating quickly in my chest. His face contorts; he's conflicted, he doesn't want to drop it, I can tell. Finally he moves his eyes from my face.

"Ok."

"And please, don't go there anymore. It just makes it harder, ok? Because ultimately it makes zero difference to me. Nothing's going to change." I stand. "I'm going to see if I can find somewhere to get us a coffee." I turn but he calls me back. I roll my eyes before I face him again, but actually he's just holding out a handful of coins. I realize that I don't actually have anything smaller than a note on me so I step toward him and hold my hand out for him to tip them in. "Thanks," I say.

"You're welcome."

It takes me ten minutes to find a machine and buy the coffees. I slump against the wall for a moment and take a tentative sip of the lava-hot liquid, still burning my tongue as I'd known I would. I wonder what lies ahead for Edward and me; whether we'll ever have any of the easiness back between us. Not that I want to be close to him again, but I hate awkwardness, hate watching what I'm saying and hate being on a permanent look-out to gauge his reactions and mood all of the time. And I really hate having to always be on the defensive, trying to second guess what's coming next and trying to cut him off. Fuck, this is exhausting.

I retrieve Edward's coffee from the machine and retrace my steps.

He's on his feet reading the various posters on the noticeboard when I return. I pass him the hot cup and then hold out his change for him. He thanks me.

"No word?" I ask him.

"Nothing," he confirms.

"I hate this," I say standing beside him to look at the notices. "Do you think he's ok?"

"I really don't know," he says. "You should have heard the sound when his head hit the ground. It makes me sick to think about it."

"Then try not to," I reply.

"Because it's that simple," he mumbles.

"It's called self-preservation," I tell him. "And I know it's not simple, but it's possible." I'm kind of an expert in it these days, although I decide not to tell him that because we'll be straight onto that same old circle again.

Silence.

A nurse passes by pushing a trolley of equipment. We watch her go.

Silence. And then…

"I went on a date," he says. I pause, mouth full of coffee. I force myself to swallow it, careful not to choke. I don't want to give him the pleasure of a reaction. But then the way he said it makes me believe it's not a reaction that he's looking for.

"Congratulations," I tell him, unsure of what the correct etiquette is this situation. He shakes his head, a strange, regretful smile on his face.

"I thought I could do it, but—"

"It?" I cut in, a little panic stricken. "Really, I don't want to he—" His face changes and he looks horrified.

"No! I didn't mean _that_! Shit, Bella, as if I would say something like that!"

I'm so relieved that I start to giggle a little. Edward looks at me slyly and then starts to laugh a little himself.

"You should have seen your face," he snorts.

"Well yours wasn't much better when you worked out what I thought!" I say. We're both quiet again, but it's more comfortable this time, the tension broken a little.

"It didn't go well then?" I ask eventually.

"Yeah, something like that," he says. "She was nice but it was all too strange. Different. I don't think I'm ready."

I shrug.

"Maybe not," I agree.

"It's not like that then. For you, I mean? I know you said he's not your boyfriend, but it looked…in the bar…"

The door in the distance opens and Rose appears. She walks towards us, her face giving nothing away, although she's not crying and she's definitely walking taller so I'm cautiously optimistic.

I use the moment to conveniently ignore the fact that Edward was asking me about Riley and me.

I walk towards her and Edward falls into step beside me.

"He's ok," she says as she reaches us. I pull her into a hug and squeeze her tightly.

"Thank God," I whisper. I've held it all together pretty well up to this point, but the relief flooding through my body causes me to lose it and the tears begin to escape from my eyes.

"They've just got the results back from the brain scan and there's no lasting damage that they can see. We're just waiting for him to wake up now."

As she pulls away, a nurse appears though the door and calls her back, saying that he's asking for her. She turns back to us, smiling at last.

"You guys go home. I'm going to stay but there's no point us all being here all night."

"Are you sure?" Edward asks her.

"Yes. Go get some sleep. And thank you. Both of you." She pulls Edward into a quick hug and then hugs me again before she walks off with a quick wave.

I wipe my eyes with my hand but the tears are still falling. I feel pretty exhausted. Edward pulls me into his arms, wrapping them around me. I consider pulling away, but dammit, I just really need a hug right now. I close my arms around him, and there…there's the familiarity. I still fit the same, years of doing this together made sure of it. He smells the same – he uses the same laundry detergent we always did.

_Did._ I changed my preferences after he moved out. I hated that everything still smelled like him. He kisses the top of my head and I let him. Just for a moment. Any minute now…I can feel it…the panic, the restlessness beginning to bubble.

And…

I pull away. His arms are reluctant to let me go and I have to push him away – gently, but a push all the same.

"Let's go," I say, wiping at my cheeks again.

We're sitting in a cab on the way home when Edward curses. I look at him.

"I don't have a key for Emmett & Rosalie's place," he tells me.

"Me neither," I say.

"I'll let you out at home and then I'll get him to take me back to the hospital," Edward says, indicating to the driver. He looks so tired. We're both quiet for a moment.

"You can sleep on my couch," I tell him. He looks at me in surprise. "I mean, you don't have to, but the offer's there is you want it."

"Thanks," he says. "That would be good. If you're sure." I feel him slide his hand around mine on the seat between us. He squeezes it but doesn't let go. I bite my lip and slowly slide my fingers out of his grasp and into my lap.

"It's fine. I'd do it for any friend," I tell him, turning to look out of the window and hoping he got the message. Friend.

"I hope Em's ok," he says after a moment's silence.

"Rosalie seemed hopeful," I reply, looking back at him.

"I really thought he was dead," he suddenly blurts out. "He just lay there in this pool of blood—"

"Sssh," I say, panicking slightly as his face screws up and he rubs his hand across his eyes. His other hand is still next to me and I put my considerably smaller one over it. "Don't. Just…try not to think about it. He's ok."

The cab pulls up outside my house. Edward pays and we climb out, walking to the door. I smirk as I remember something from earlier.

"You know," I begin. "When Rose called around to tell us about Em, I thought it was you banging on the door to confront me about Riley," I tell him as I unlock the door and push it open.

"Would it have made any difference to you and him if I had?" he asks.

"No, I'd just have been mad at you for interfering," I say as I hang my jacket up and slip my shoes off.

"Well I'm glad I made the right decision," he says.

"You weren't rushing out of the bar to come here then?" I ask, raising my eyebrows in challenge, a smile on my lips as I tease him.

He smiles and I smile at his face.

"No. We weren't heading home."

"Oh?" I ask, my ego taking a hit. I berate myself internally for considering his feelings for me to be such a sure thing.

He seems to be deciding something. Finally he looks at me again.

"Do _not _breathe a word to Rose or she'll have Em's balls and I'm guessing he's in enough pain right now."

Oh, this is definitely interesting.

"We were going to a strip club," he announces, flinching a little at his admission.

"Classy," I say, nodding in mock approval.

I'm suddenly overcome by tiredness and rub my face.

"On that note I'm going to turn in. I'll just grab you some blankets and a pillow," I tell him.

I grab what he'll need from the closet in my bedroom and dump them on the couch for him. He thanks me. As I head back into my bedroom and close the door behind me I hear him call goodnight.

"Goodnight," I reply.

I'm finally in bed, washed and teeth-cleaned when my phone beeps. I pick it up to find a message from Riley asking if there's any news. I reply to let him know that Emmett should be fine and thanks him again. He really was understanding about everything tonight.

And that kiss…it feels like it happened a lifetime ago. And now here I am lying in bed with my ex-husband sleeping on the couch in the next room.

I used to have such a simple life. _But you're stronger for the all the shit you've had thrown at you,_ a voice in the back of my head says.

So true.

**Thanks for reading, I would love to hear your thoughts. Happy Hump Day!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Thank you to everybody who read my last update and are sticking around! Also thank you to those who took the time to get in touch, explain why they're not and wish me well, I appreciate it :o). **

**Disclaimer – All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer.**

**Chapter 15**

"How's your friend?" Riley asks me on Monday morning. They're his first words after '_hi'. _I hadn't seen him again after I left him in the hospital parking lot, but I'd spoken to him a couple of times over the weekend.

I smile at his thoughtfulness as I hang my jacket up

"He's still in the hospital but he's improving. He's driving Rose insane though, he's really not the best person to be stuck in a bed unable to move." I laugh a little as I remember how Rosalie was moaning about him the evening before when I called over to see her.

"Really, Bella," she moans as she poured us each a glass of wine. "I know I'm not the most patient person , but I have no idea how I'm going to cope with him until he gets his independence back."

"Well, I guess the way you'll cope with it is by having no choice," I tell her brightly, offering her an exaggerated smile.

"Thanks for your support," she grumbles back at me. We sit down on the couch and she leans back into the soft cushions with a sigh. "Anyway, about your house guest on Friday night," she says, throwing the indulgent smile back at me. I scoff.

"Yeah, thanks for that. You could at least taken the time to remember a key before rushing back in to see your ill husband," I tell her, rolling my eyes.

"Was it _really _awkward for you?" she asks, serious now. "Edward didn't say too much when I asked him."

"No," I tell her truthfully. "I went to bed as soon as we got in and he only stayed long enough to drink a coffee in the morning. Time definitely heals. It's easier every time I see him. Although…" I pause. Rose looks on curiously, but doesn't speak. "He gets harder to predict every time; his reactions, his behaviour. I used to know him so well but I feel like I hardly know him at all now. I don't know if it's time apart or if one of us has changed." I shrug my shoulders and take a long drink from my glass as I think over what I just told my friend.

"You've both changed," she tells me with certainty. "I mean, I didn't know you before, but you've changed even in the time I _have _known you. You're definitely surer of yourself. I don't think he's comfortable with that, although I think he admires it. I think it's the changes in you that are making it so hard for him to accept." I nod at her wise words.

"You could be right," I tell her. "I've wondered a lot about what went wrong in the marriage. I'm not saying that I deserved what he did to me because that would be bullshit, but I was definitely guilty of complacency and acceptance of things going downhill. I should've woken up and started fighting long before things reached crisis point."

"You know, if you decided you wanted to go down that road now, we'd all support you, right? I mean, don't feel that you couldn't follow your heart because of what people would say. If you felt it pulling you in his direction again, I mean."

I blinked at the tears forming in my eyes. It was something I wondered about most days, even if only for a split second.

"I couldn't," I tell her, my voice shaking. "I saw too much, Rose. I can't spend the rest of my life haunted by those images every time I look into his face. And I could never trust him again."

"I understand," she says, scooting closer and putting her arm around my shoulders. "I just thought I'd put it out there, you know. Just so you'd know."

"I appreciate it," I tell her genuinely. And I really do, because I had found that the times of self-doubt were tremendous. Just when you need somebody important standing next to you, holding your hand and whispering words of support, they're not there because they're the one that has caused all of the turmoil.

The sense of abandonment is overwhelming.

"Riley's just as cute as I remember," Rose says, her eyes lighting up as she nudges me in the side with her elbow.

"Poor Riley," I say. "Faced with ex-husband issues and then dragged out to the ER."

"Do you think he's the one the psychic told you about?" Rose asks. I snort.

"There was nothing in what she said, Rose. It was blatantly all made up." Her face falls and I feel a little guilty for being so harsh over something she clearly believes in. "I'm sorry, but the more I think about it the more I think it was just a lucky coincidence that she got so much right. And as for love hitting me like a ton of bricks? Well if it is true then I'm not feeling that with Riley. Not yet anyway. I do like him though. A lot." I smile and take another drink from my glass.

Rose is studying my face, keeping her own emotionless. After a long moment she shrugs.

"Lucky coincidence? We'll see," is all she says.

I go to visit Emmett straight from work that evening. Rosalie is already there, but when she leaves in search of the chocolate he's craving, I move my chair closer and lower my voice just in case.

"Edward told me where you were going when the accident happened," I tell him. He frowns as though he has no idea what I'm talking about. "The strip club?" I prompt. He opens his mouth and expels a mighty laugh. I raise an eyebrow.

"I wasn't taking him to a strip club!" he says, still chuckling. He looks at me again and takes in my disbelieving expression before adopting a marginally more serious tone. "Bella, do you have any idea what Rosalie would do to me if she thought I'd even _considered_ visiting a strip club?"

"Are you saying Edward was making it up?" I ask, thinking about how believable he'd sounded when he told me. Emmett's still grinning.

"No. I think that when I said we'd go to _The Gentleman's Club,_ that he got the wrong idea."

He takes in the confused look on my face. "It's the name of a bar in town," he explains. "A hundred years ago or something, the building was a Gentleman's Club – as in _a club for gentlemen_, not a strip joint," he says pointedly. "They've restored the place. It's pretty cool." He moved his head from side to side on the pillow. "Man, no wonder he was so pissy about going. I wondered what the hell his problem was!" He was still smirking when Rose comes back into the room.

"What are you looking so happy about?" she asks him, dropping the chocolate onto the covers tucked over his chest.

"Bella was just telling me a funny story about Cullen," he tells her. "We were heading to The Gentleman's Club when I got run down. He told Bella he thought we were going to a strip joint." Rose smirks and rolls her eyes.

"He told you that?" she asks. I nod. "Way to make a good impression, Edward," she says, shaking her head.

* * *

><p>Riley and I are over at Rose and Em's. Emmett has been out of hospital for two weeks now, and other than the plaster cast that has to stay on his leg for another three weeks, is absolutely fine.<p>

It's the first time that Riley and Emmett have met, and I have a feeling that Em was a little weirded out by it from the sly looks he kept giving Riley when we first came in. I'm relieved that he seems to have warmed a little now, judging by the loud, guffawing laughs coming from the living room as Rose and I empty some snacks into dishes and grab the drinks.

Riley had shot me a look that said 'help' as I left him with Emmett, but as I come back into the living room and hand him a beer, I see that he's animatedly telling Emmett a story that's cracking Em up. I turn and look at Rose and raise my eyebrows at the scene.

"I thought he was shy?" she whispers.

"He is!" I whisper back, before going to sit beside him on the couch. He lets his leg fall against mine as I sit down and puts his hand on my knee without even pausing in his story. I wonder for a moment if he even knows he did it, but as he finishes speaking he leans back and turns to look at me, his eyes still sparkling with amusement from his story-telling.

"Having fun?" I ask, smiling as I tease him a little. He laughs.

"Uh-huh," he replies, smiling as he fails to keep eye contact with me and looking quickly away before glancing back again.

"Hey, Riley," Emmett calls, launching into a story of his own as soon as he has his attention. Riley is soon double over on the couch next to me, laughing at Emmett. Rose and I sit and laugh at the two of them.

It's a little later and Rose and I are alone again.

"I've realized something about Riley," she says as she pulls more beers from the refrigerator.

"Oh?" I ask, curiously.

"He's not shy," she says. I frown. "Not really," she continues. "Only with you."

"But you were there that night we saw him the first time. You know? When we named him '_cute, shy guy,_' remember?" I say, crushing her theory.

"Yeah, I saw. But _you_ were then too, Bella. And it was you he was looking at. Have you seen him tonight? The only time he looks uncertain is when he's interacting with you."

I watch Riley closely for the rest of the evening and realize that Rose is right. His flushed cheeks and unsure glances are all for me. I'm quietly thrilled at the effect I have on him.

* * *

><p>As we approach the front door of my apartment later on, Riley asks if he can come in and wait while he calls a cab.<p>

"No," I tell him. His face falls and I can see he's wondering how to respond. "Because I don't want you to leave," I tell him, backing him up to the wall. "Stay tonight," I say, my confidence boosted by Rosalie's observations. I watch as his eyes widen. I take his hands and pull them around my waist while I stretch up on my toes and wrap my own arms around his neck. I look into his eyes, but he has them cast down, focused on my lips. "Look at me," I demand. I register his teeth grazing his lower lip as he raises his eyes to mine. "We're really going to have to work on this eye contact issue," I tell him, smirking at the color in his cheeks as I lean in and place my lips on his own.

His kisses aren't shy. Tentative at first, yes, but I kind of like that. And he warms up quickly, and I _really_ like that.

"Bella," he gasps against my mouth after a few minutes of his increasingly hot lips and tongue against my own. I don't reply; instead I eagerly try to recapture his elusive mouth with my own. "Why are we doing this out here?" he asks before giving in to my searching lips again. I break away for long enough to pull my key from my pocket, unlock the door, drag him inside and lock it again behind us.

I'd always thought that those films you see, where the guy pushes everything off a table and lifts you onto it, were complete fiction. Not in Riley's world apparently.

And still we haven't made it any further than the hallway. As he pulls my shirt up and over my head, I'm starting to think that Rose was right about him not being all that shy at all. The gratifying noises he makes as I pull his own shirt off and lick and nip at his chest and neck confirms it for me.

The thought briefly enters my head that I don't feel at all self-conscious about being with him like this. If anyone would have asked me, I'd have said that sex after the divorce would be a little strange and very possibly bordering on traumatic. I'm relieved to discover that this isn't the case.

I'm panting by the time I unbutton his jeans and push them down, but not as much as I do when I see what he's been hiding underneath them. I gasp and reach out to touch him through the stretchy grey cotton of his underwear, ghosting my fingertips over the growing wet patch where he's leaking. His cheeks are flushed with the pink that I love so much, only this time it's not just his bashfulness causing it. He groans and presses himself against my hand, his fingers tangling in my hair as he pulls my face back to his and kisses his way down from my mouth, to my neck and then lower, pausing only to release my breasts from the cups of my bra before he turns his attention to them.

He groans when I move my hand away to relieve myself of my bra altogether, but the sound is appreciative again once I bring my hand back and slide it down inside the cotton, so that there's nothing between my skin and his.

I work on getting him completely naked next while does the same to me. I'm off the table now, and take the opportunity to drop to my knees and take him into my mouth.

"Bella," he gasps, winding my hair around his hand again. "Bella." I look up at him as I wrap my lips around him and slide him in and out of my mouth. He has his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth is partly open. Shit, he looks hot. My eyes pass down over his defined chest and flat stomach, his muscles hinting at abs without being hard. "Stop!" he suddenly cries out, holding me still as he gasps for breath. "I don't want to…not yet." He pulls me gently up and kisses me again, more slowly and languorously this time.

I'm actually aching between my legs now, desperate for him to touch me and to fill me. I pull away from his kiss and lead him by the hand to my bedroom. He follows willingly. We lie down on the bed and embrace. He's all hands and they're exactly where I wanted them. But evidently I'm greedy, because soon I want more.

I want _him_.

And so, with condom acquired from my nightstand, I help myself.

He has the right balance between tender and erotic. Not too gentle and yet not rough. It's…it's…yeah. Perfect is too cliché, but it's pretty damn close.

There's just one thing more I'm craving now, and so as he half sits, propped up against the headboard while I ride him, I take his face in my hands. I lean in and kiss him deeply, but as I pull away I leave my hands there.

"About your inability to keep eye contact with me," I tell him, panting as he moves deep inside me. He glances away and I stop moving. He groans and looks back at me. I move again. He holds my gaze with his own lusty one and I moan. Almost unconsciously he looks away again. I stop again. "Every time you look away, I stop," I explain. "It's up to you." He looks again, I move again. He groans. I groan. It's so good. He looks away. I stop. He's testing me, I can tell by the smile playing on his lips. And then he turns back to me and he stares right at me. His eyes are hooded, but they're there, right on mine. And he's not going anywhere this time as I begin to move again. And he fucks me good, with his cock _and_ his eyes, and oh my God, if it's not the hottest sex I've ever had in my life.

We're still staring at one another as I begin to come. And I tell him that I'm coming and he tells me he is too.

And we do.

And as we do, I keep my eyes right on him, and his are right on me, and it's one of those weird, connection moments that you hear about from friends or read about in magazines. And afterwards we kiss slowly and hold one another and tell each other how good it was.

And it really was.

And then…we do it all over again.

* * *

><p><strong>Please review :o)<br>**


	16. Chapter 16

**Thanks for all of the reviews for the last chapter. I think we're getting near the end of our journey, I don't see too many chapters left, but we'll see how the journey goes!**

**Disclaimer – Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight.**

**Chapter 16**

As soon as Emmett has the cast off his leg and is fully mobile again, he rebooks the Fort Worden trip that we'd had to postpone after his accident. I'm still seeing Riley and things are going great. Em and Rose have grown pretty attached to him too, so they insist that I invite him along. I don't have to think about it twice; if they're happy with the arrangement then I definitely am. It's nice to have some time together to look forward to that's not being spent in an office. That's the downside to working with your boyfriend, I guess.

I'm actually looking forward to it a lot more this time. For one, I'm in a much better place emotionally than the last time, and also I'll have met everyone before.

We ride with Emmett, Rosalie and the keg. It seems it's tradition for Emmett to supply the beer.

"Are you nervous?" I whisper to Riley on the car ride there.

"Why would I be nervous?" he asks, smiling. I smile back, I can't help it; he just has that effect on me.

"I don't know," I tell him, shrugging. "I just thought you might be."

"Oh come on, Bella. It's not as though I'm shy around people I don't know," he says. Rose laughs loudly from the front seat.

"Is that a fact, Riley?" she asks, teasing him.

"We've been working on Riley's eye contact issues," I say, keeping my eyes firmly on his. He meets the challenge, not only holding my gaze, but doing it with what I would definitely call a lusty expression. I guess the old principles of conditioning are at work; he's pretty much salivating like one of Pavlov's dogs when they hear a bell.

I look away first, but only because Rosalie turns in her seat to talk to me.

By the time we reach the guesthouse and unlock the door to room number seven, I'm just about ready to pounce on him. Except he beats me to it.

A while later I emerge from the room while Riley takes a shower. I see Alice first and throw my arms around her, squealing loudly. It's been too long; I suddenly miss Forks a lot. As we pull apart I hear a voice that I hadn't been expecting here.

Edward.

And as though that wasn't bad enough, his words make my stomach lurch.

"Hey, Em. Are there any other rooms free? Whoever's in the room next to me is going to make it pretty hard to sleep if they carry on like they are, if you catch my drift?" Emmett does indeed 'catch Edward's drift' and guffaws loudly.

"Bad luck bro, we're a full house this weekend. What room?"

"Number seven," he replies.

"Seven?" Em asks, thinking for a moment. "That's—"

My heart thumps in my chest, but for some reason I speak out. I guess my secret sadist is out to play today.

"My room," I cut in. Edward spins around, his eyes opening wider as he takes me in.

"Bella?" he says hesitantly.

"Edward. I didn't know you were going to be here," I tell him.

"You're not here alone." he says. It's definitely not a question. He's shifting from foot to foot while his hands are moving from his hair, to his shirt, to his pockets. Never still.

"Uh, no," I confirm. I hang my head for a moment, even though I have nothing at all to be ashamed of. I've done nothing wrong. I glance back up at him. He's staring at me, his eyes the only thing that aren't moving.

"I'm going to take a walk," he suddenly announces, before turning and striding out. All eyes are on me as the door closes behind him.

"Hey," I complain. "I didn't even know he was coming! Which begs the question, why did nobody tell me?" I demand, looking accusingly around. Rosalie comes over and puts her arm around my shoulder.

"I'm sorry, honey. I wanted to tell you, I really did, but Emmett thought that if you knew then you wouldn't have come and we really wanted you to. It'll be fine. It might even do him some good to see you with somebody else. He still seems to think that there's a chance for you guys."

"The man's delusional," I tell her. "How many Goddamn times do I have to tell him that we're through? And anyway, there's a difference between seeing me with someone else and hearing what he obviously heard."

"Consider it payback for what you saw," Rose whispers to me. I shiver at the thought.

"Rose, I wouldn't wish anything that made someone feel as bad as that, on my worst enemy."

Riley chooses this moment to appear.

"Is everything ok?" he asks, wrapping his arms around me from behind and leaning forward to place a kiss on my cheek.

"Not really," I say, turning in his arms to face him. "Edward's here." Riley's head drops back and he sighs.

"Fantastic," he whispers as he brings his head upright again. "Are you ok?"

I laugh humourlessly.

"I'm fine," I tell him. "Edward…not so much. Apparently his room is next to ours."

"Oh," Riley says, but I can tell he doesn't get it.

"Yeah, his room is next to ours and apparently the walls are pretty thin?" Riley's face changes. He gets it.

"Oh!"

"Yeah, I know. I need some air," I tell Riley as I pull myself from his grasp. I walk out of the very same door that Edward left through and stand on the balcony, taking deep breaths as I lean on the railing. In the distance I can see Edward climbing the steps that lead to the path through the woods. I know the feeling he had when he realized that it was Riley and me that he'd heard. It's like a punch to the gut, and it reflected on his face too.

I hear footsteps approaching up the wooden steps and look down to see Garrett, a wide smile on his face.

"Well, well, if it isn't the lovely Bella," he says. "How are you doing?" he reaches the top of the steps and hugs me hello.

"I'm good thanks, Garrett. How are you?"

I'm genuinely pleased to see Garrett, I liked him the last time we were here – fooling around aside – and I'm glad that it doesn't feel awkward to see him again.

"Yeah, I'm doing ok. I don't suppose I could get lucky enough for you to be here alone again, could I?"

"No, neither of us got that lucky this time," I tease him with a wink. "Because _this_ visit, not only do I have my boyfriend with me, but my ex-husband is here too!" I laugh, because it is a ridiculous situation. "Isn't that great?" I ask sarcastically. Garrett leans in close and whispers in my ear.

"It's not too late you know. We can be down those steps, in my car and on the 101 before anyone misses us, baby." I push him away, smiling at him.

"As tempting as your offer is…I'd better say no. But thanks." I flash him a wide smile.

Riley chooses this moment to come and find me. He looks at Garrett and I sense the two of them doing that masculine sizing one another up bullshit. I introduce them and they shake hands, although their faces remain wary of one another.

"Guys!" Emmett's voice booms out with perfect timing. "I now pronounce the keg…open!"

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Garrett asks, smiling at me as he passes us to enter the guesthouse.

*OP&P*

By the time Edward returns, we're all on our third beer. He doesn't look in my direction, he just heads for Emmett who slaps him on the back as he hands him a beer of his own. I notice Em bend and whisper in Edward's ear. Edward nods his head.

I stand to head to the kitchen for some snacks, but Riley pulls me back and I land on his lap with a squeal that I instantly regret letting out when all heads turn our way. I swat at him, conscious that Edward's probably watching too. A part of me feels like I should enjoy flaunting Riley in front of him, and I guess I do get some twisted satisfaction from it. Does that make me a bad person?

Because then there's that other part. That much larger part that feels guilty for it. I know it's stupid. But I can't…I just can't stop caring for him completely, I guess. And when I glance across at him, and I see him watching me with _that_ look on his face, then I know. I _know_ that I made the best decision to get out of Forks and put space between us, because I _know_ he'd have been able to wear me down if I had to see him around. I recognize that I miss him, and I wonder what the hell I'm thinking. I guess it's that stupid thing that we all do when we miss someone or something. We glamorize it in our heads; we forget the crappy bits and we magnify the good, and we convince ourselves that we're missing out, even though everything was actually pretty shitty at the time. The human race is essentially a pretty much fucked-up species when you think about it. If we're not letting others torture us, we're doing it to ourselves.

"If he carries on staring at you like that I'm going to say something," Riley's whispering in my ear. I tear my eyes away from Edward's and lean in close to Riley.

"Please…don't," I ask, locking my eyes on his now. "Really. I don't want you to. This is hard enough for everyone as it is." He rests his forehead against mine as he runs his hand reassuringly up and down my back.

"Ok," he sighs. "I won't. But I don't like it. What the hell was Emmett thinking, not telling you?" he wonders. I smirk.

"Aah, actually I have it on good authority that he was scared we wouldn't come if we'd have known. And you know he has that huge guy-crush on you, so…" Em's guy-crush on Riley had become a standing joke between Rose and I. I could tell that Emmett was reigning himself in for Edward's benefit too, because, seriously, he'd not kept this much distance between him and Riley since they first met.

"Yeah, funny," Riley replies giving me a slight, light-hearted shove. I reach to grab for his sweater to steady myself, but miss and slip off his lap onto the floor.

"Hey!" I hear an angry voice shout from the other side of the room. I closed my eyes momentarily, almost scared to look. I can all but feel the testosterone engulfing the room. My eyes open just as Riley reaches down to help me back onto his lap.

"I'm sorry," he mutters. "I didn't mean for you to fall."

"I never thought you did," I tell him. "It's fine." I turn, but it's not Edward glaring over at Riley.

"It was an accident, Garrett," I tell him. "Relax." He eyes Riley again, but then turns and walks towards the door, pulling his cigarettes from his pocket. I notice Edward's head turn to watch him go. I'll bet he's wondering what Garrett's interest in me is. Well, yeah, wonder away, Edward, because it isn't any of your business any more.

*OP&P*

"How's Seattle?" Edward asks me later when we happen to be in the kitchen at the same time.

"It's good," I tell him. "Different. And Forks?"

"Not so good," he says, a small smile on his lips. "Because it's pretty much the same, you know?"

"Oh yeah, I know," I tell him, smiling back.

"I saw Jake last week," he tells me. "He's looking well. Not a bruise on him."

"Yeah, he said he's staying out of trouble," I reply.

"You're in contact with him?" he asks? I can tell that he's genuinely surprised.

"He's my best friend, Edward. Remember? Oh, no, I forgot, you never did like to acknowledge that, did you?" I say. I regret it instantly of course, because I know that things will go downhill and they've actually been surprisingly civil up to now. I pause, cringing at my momentary loss of control. I look at Edward but he's not reacting. Not like I thought he would, at least. He shrugs and he bites his lip and he looks away and then he stares harder at something.

"You're boyfriend doesn't trust me," he says.

"My boyfriend knows what you did to me. Is it any wonder? I don't trust you either."  
>"I don't mean like that. I mean he looks as though he's waiting for me to step out of line so he can take me down." He's frowning but I laugh.<p>

"Riley's not like that," I tell him.

"Really? Have you seen the way he's looking at me?" I glance over his shoulder and see that his assessment actually looks pretty accurate.

"I'd better go," I tell him. "I'll see you later." I pick up my drink and head back to the main part of the room where Garrett's just getting his guitar out. I guess it's that time of night.

When we go to bed I do my best to resist Riley's caresses. I finally give in, unable to say no. I manage to make sure that we're quiet, even though Riley is whispering in my ear that he wants to slam me up against the wall and fuck me loudly until I scream his name. That in itself almost gets me screaming for him. And yet, I find that in spite of all of that, I can't quite manage to forget who is in the next room, possibly hearing what we're doing.

Afterwards I lie awake, my body tangled with Riley's as he breathes the slow and steady breaths of sleep somewhere close to my ear. I hear a door open and close. The door to the room next to ours.

I lie a while longer, growing ever more restless inside. My limbs are desperate to move; so desperate that they almost twitch. I experimentally try unwinding my body from Riley's. He lets me. I haven't even begun to process what I'm doing when I slip from the bed and put on my pajamas, pulling Riley's hoodie on over the top. Glancing back at his sleeping form beneath the rumpled covers, I quietly open the door and leave the room.

Edward sits at the dining table with his head in his hands, massaging his temples. I notice the glass with the measure of whiskey in that sits in front of him. I move behind him and take the milk from the refrigerator. He looks up at me, and I hold the carton up.

"Cocoa?" I ask. He smiles.

"Sure, that'd be nice," he replies. He looks at me a beat longer. The smile slips. His eyes are sad. So sad.

The kitchen is silent as I make two mugs of what used to be his favorite drink whenever I found him awake in the middle of the night. His sleep was always the first thing to be affected when he got stressed.

"What are you doing out here, Bella?" he asks me as I set the mug down in front of him and settle myself on the chair at the opposite side of the table.

"I couldn't sleep," I say.

"I'd have thought you'd have been glad of the rest after…" He trails off but we both know what he was going to say.

"I'm not going to apologise for being with someone else," I say softly. "I'm divorced. _We're_ divorced."

"Are you happy, Bella?" he asks me.

"I think I'm as happy as I can be," I tell him. "I'm not sure I'll ever be completely happy again though. I think somebody stole that from me." I look him square in the eye and he looks back at me.

"If it's any consolation," he says softly. "I stole that from myself at the same time."

"Nothing's any consolation. You brought everything on yourself," I say. "It was your choices that got us here, Edward. Not mine. I had no choice." I look at him and he looks at me. Neither of us is angry, I just feel exhausted.

"I miss you, Bella."

"Well, that's too bad," I tell him. He looks away but I can't. The low light is kind to his face. He's just as beautiful on the outside as he ever was; it's the inside of him that disintegrated into something rotten.

"Yeah, I'm kind of coming to terms with it all now. I just wanted you to know. Even though I know it makes no difference, I just need you to know that…if you ever did change your mind…that I'll always be here for you."

I'm silent. I can think of nothing else to say as his words sink in. I search for the appropriate response to what he said. I refuse to thank him seeing he got us here in the first place.

"Ok." When it comes down to it, this is the best I can do. And then I think of Riley and all of the things that _he _offers me. And the fact that he's in bed just down the hallway and I left him – for reasons I can't quite grasp – to come and sit here with the man that hurt me so badly. And so I pick up my mug with the remains of my cocoa, I stand and I look across the table.

"Goodnight, Edward," I say.

"Goodnight," he replies.

And by the time I get up the following morning, Edward has already left.

**Thanks for reading, please review **


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer.**

**Chapter 17**

Eight weeks before my contract in Seattle is due to end, my boss approaches me and offers me a further twelve months with the company. The new contract doesn't need to be signed for another two weeks, so I have some time to think it over.

I'm excited at the prospect of having more time here, and so as I turn into the hallway where my office is, I'm already seriously considering doing an about-turn and heading straight back there to sign. But I don't, and I'm almost at my office door when I hear a woman giggling inside. And then I hear Riley's voice. And he's laughing too. And I don't actually hear what they're saying, just voices, but that's mostly because my heart is thumping in my chest and blood is rushing in my ears, and just like that, it's like I'm standing outside Edward's car all over again, while he fucks Angela inside it.

I consider running away, but I take a shaky step forward and go in through the door. Riley looks up, and even though there's nothing _actually_ going on as such, this girl _is_ sitting onhis fucking desk with her legs crossed at the knees and her skirt riding up her thigh. And he looks guilty. I'm an expert in guilty these days, and right now? He's it.

The girl glances at me and smiles. Kind of. You know that half smile, half sneer that some women do? Well that's what I get from her. She slips down from the desk, adjusts her skirt and flicks her long, dark hair back over her shoulder.

"Well, I'll see you around Riley," she says with a coy wave that makes me want to vomit. "I hope," she adds, with an even sicklier giggle.

"Yeah, uh, see ya," he says, clearing his throat uncomfortably as he glances at me again. Guiltily. Like I said.

I sit down behind my desk, already exhausted and neither of us has even said anything yet. As soon as the girl has gone, Riley jumps up and closes the door, standing behind it with his fingers wrapped around the handle.

"I saw your face when you came in," he says. "And I promise you one hundred per cent that there was nothing going on."

And this is the point at which I realize, after all these months of thinking that I'm ok, that I'm actually more damaged than I knew. Because I can't believe him. I want to believe him, I really do, but it's like the rational part of me has gone and deserted me, and I've become _that woman_. The one that is forever suspicious and eventually drives her poor, harassed and in all likelihood innocent, boyfriend away.

I can't react in a sane manner, so I decide I'm just not going to react at all.

"It's fine," I tell him, not even looking at him as I log onto my computer and pull a pile of papers from the drawer next to my chair.

"Well it's obviously not," Riley replies, the tension audible in his voice. I stop what I'm doing and fix him with a stare.

"Riley, just leave it," I snap.

"I'm not going to leave it until you believe me," he says, opening his mouth to say more until I cut him off.

"Well I'm never going to be able to believe you, so I suggest that you just let it go. Ok?"

"I've never given you any reason not to trust me, Bella," he says, still standing by the door, but leaning forward as he speaks.

"No, you haven't," I concede. "But my ex-husband gave me plenty of reasons never to trust any man again. I can't help it; it's just how it is."

And just like that I know that I'm headed back to Forks in eight weeks' time.

* * *

><p>"You're sure about this?" Rose asks me, reaching out and grabbing a hold of my wrist as I dump another box in the trunk of my car and turn to go back into the apartment for another.<p>

"No," I reply honestly. She sighs and her shoulders slump as she lets me go.

"Nothing will have changed in Forks, you know?"

"Well maybe I wasn't ready for change anyway. Maybe I need to go back and deal with everything that happened back there a little more proactively before I try to move on."

"By which you mean…?" She's frowning and I can see she's a little puzzled. I've not spoken to her about my decision to move back other than to tell her that I'm doing it. I can see she doesn't understand_ why _I'm doing it and I can see why she wouldn't, I guess.

"Therapy. I have my first appointment on Thursday."

"You could have therapy in Seattle, Bella. Lots of it. Do you know how many therapists there even are in this city?" I smile a small smile at her and take her hand, giving it a squeeze.

"And that's the problem. I'm not a city girl." I turn and walk away, but she walks with me.

"How's Riley?" she asks. I sigh.

"He's still pissed at me, but he thinks the therapy is a good idea." I stop and turn to look at her. "He says I'm running away. He says I ran away from Edward and now I'm running away from him."

"Maybe he's right."

"There's no maybe about it; I know he's right. It doesn't make it any easier for me to deal with."

Rosalie is silent while we each pick up another box and walk back out to the car. She puts it inside and then turns to me as I set mine down.

"You know, Riley's a great guy, Bella. He has a lot going for him."

"I know that," I tell her impatiently. I know because I've been having this same conversation with myself in my head for the past few weeks. My fucked-over self always wins though.

"You need somebody great. You deserve him." I turn and walk away from her. She doesn't follow this time, but her voice does. "If you let him go, Bella, I'll be really mad at you…but not nearly as mad as you'll be at yourself when you realize what you threw away." I stop but I don't turn.

"Yeah, probably," I murmur under my breath before I walk on.

* * *

><p>One last walk around my now-empty apartment and I'm ready to leave. As I approach the front door I see that Riley has arrived and is in deep conversation with Rose. She has her hand on his arm and looks for all the world as though she's pleading with him. He's nodding his head and looks to be comforting her. My heart swells a little and I think about how much I love this caring man, before I squash the feeling back down. If I let myself feel now, I'll have crumbled before I've even got the three hours home to Forks.<p>

Riley turns and sees me. He smiles and I detect the sadness that's there as he breaks away from Rosalie and comes over to hug me.

"You all set?" he asks. I nod. "It's not too late you know, you can still stay."

"I've given my apartment up, remember?" I say.

"Move in with me," he replies without pause.

"Riley," I whine. We've been over and over this. It's not the first time he's asked me. It's not the first time I've said no. He knew I'd say it again, I guess he was hoping that now it was down to the wire I might change my mind.

"I'm not giving up on you and you can't force me to," he says. Again, not the first time he's told me this.

"I know," I tell him.

If he was shocked at how badly damaged I was; or at the ugly downturn everything took the day I found Heidi from accounts sitting on his desk, then he didn't show it, he just upped his game. He gave me space when I needed space; he came closer when I needed him closer. He took all his cues from me and unbelievably he didn't piss me off once. But he scared me. If I had learned anything from my marriage, it was that it was true that letting people in just gives them the ammunition to hurt you, and I knew there was no way I could put myself through that again. And so Operation Arms-Length began. Only Riley was like some kind of damn ninja at the game. No matter what I tried, he just came through it making me love him more. Distance was the only tool left in my arsenal.

Riley did his best, but ultimately he couldn't persuade me to stay in Seattle, and so in true Riley style he accepted my decision and stood by my side, even insisting on following me in his car to help me get my stuff there.

And so it's time to go. Saying goodbye to Rose and Em is hard. There's ugly crying involved and promises made. They are one of the few things I will truly miss about the city. One of the other things – maybe the main one - gets in his car and follows closely behind me as I drive toward the 101 to make the trip back home.

* * *

><p>Passing the sign that proclaims 'The City of Forks Welcomes You', I feel my stomach lurch in a way that I struggle to classify as either positive or negative. I feel sick. Driving through town, which looks exactly the same as when I left, I begin to wonder if I've made a terrible mistake by coming back. Before I can decide on an answer, I'm pulling onto my driveway and the front door is flying open.<p>

Jacob is pulling open the door of the car and dragging me out before I can barely unbuckle my seatbelt.

"Bells!" he exclaims as he squeezes me tightly. "It's so good to have you back!" I'm smiling in spite of myself at the exuberant greeting from my old friend.

"Hey, Jake," I say. I might say more if he wasn't restricting my air intake with the strength of his embrace. I hear a car door close and pull back with a little effort.

I introduce Jake and Riley. I sort of expected some kind of side-eye action from at least one of them, but I'm pleasantly surprised when they greet one other in a friendly manner before insisting that I go in and rest while they bring all my stuff inside. I'm pretty sure I could easily get used to having two sweet guys looking after me.

When I said I was coming home, we decided that Jake would stay on with me in the house. It makes sense both financially and also for my peace of mind. I've never really been happy living alone and I'm looking forward to spending lots of time with my best guy friend.

Riley's staying for a few days too, so it's a relief that he and Jake seem to hit it off. I order pizza in and we spend the evening catching up, slouching in the living room with the TV on in the background. It feels homely and nice. My apartment in Seattle never felt quite as comfortable as this. I wonder if this place won't either once Riley goes home, but I force the thought from my mind and convince myself it's the house that feels right, not just the company filling it. Jake knows all the local gossip and tells me everything worth knowing. A couple of hours in and I don't feel like I've actually been anywhere at all. Riley's quiet as Jake and I laugh and talk; he sits playing with my hair but not joining in, even when I make an effort to get him involved.

Later on, in bed, he lifts himself up on one elbow and leans down to place a tender kiss on my lips.

"Come back with me, Bella," he asks, his eyes searching my face in the soft light of the bedside lamp. "Have a break here for a few days, but then come back to Seattle. Please," he asks, his voice trailing off into a whisper. I look at him; at the frown lines on his forehead, and I think how sad he looks. And that makes me think about how sad I feel, and I wish I knew the source of my sadness so that I could stop making him sad too.

"I can't," I tell him, succeeding somehow in stopping my voice from cracking.

"You can," he insists. He's right, I can. So I try a different approach.

"But I won't," I tell him. He shakes his head as he curses softly and turns away until he has his back to me. I hate myself and I reach out to try and make it better, but somehow I've become so bitter and twisted that I've turned into some kind of sado-masochistic bitch and I pull my hand back before the skin of my fingertips can make comforting contact with the skin of his back. Instead I turn away too, clicking the lamp off but keeping my eyes open in the darkness. I hate myself passionately right now. As soon as I hear Riley's breathing deepen I slip from beneath the covers, out of the room and down the hall to Jake's room. I tap gently on the door and push it open when he calls for me to come on in.

Jake's propped up in bed, his chest bare and covers pulled up to his waist as he holds his phone in his hand.

"Everything ok?" he asks. I close the door behind me and pad over to his bed. I crawl over to him and lean into his chest as he puts his arm around me.

"I'm a horrible person, Jake," I manage to tell him before the tears come. He holds me patiently until I can speak again.

I'd never actually told Jake all of the reasons that I was coming home, as far as he knew my contract had ended so I had to come back. He's a good listener and it helps that he doesn't show any kind of reaction to anything that I confide in him about.

"Bella, you didn't really think you could go through such a fucked-up experience and come out unscathed did you? I'm impressed you managed to hold everything together for as long as you did."

"You don't think I'm a bad person?" I ask tentatively.

"You're one of the best people I know," he says as he wipes the tears from my face. "And Riley knows that too, which is why he's sticking around. You're starting therapy this Thursday?" he asks.

"Yeah. About time, huh?" I say.

"I'm sure it'll help, I'm not about to write you off. Don't worry about Riley, he's a big boy and I'm sure he's capable of looking after himself. You do what you need to, I'm sure he'll understand. Just don't push too hard, I think you'll regret it if you do."

"I have no idea what I'm doing," I confess.

"You'll be fine," he tells me, holding me a little tighter. "I'll make sure you are, ok?"

"Ok," I say. We're both quiet for a moment. "I guess I'd better get back to my own bed," I tell him.

"I'll see you in the morning." He kisses me on the cheek and I move away and get off the bed.

"Thanks."

Riley's lying on his back with his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling when I get back to my room.

"You're awake," I say, sitting down on the bed

"Yeah," he replies, his voice sleep-husky. "Where'd you go?"

"I needed to talk to Jake. I needed to know that I'm not the shitty person I feel like most of the time at the moment." Riley says nothing, which speaks volumes. "I'm sorry," I say. "Riley, I really am sorry, I'm just really freaking out at the moment about everything and I hate it. It's like I have no control over it."

"I know, I just wish you'd let me help—"

"You _do_ help," I say, trying to reassure him.

"Well I won't be able to when I'm back in Seattle and you're still here, will I?" he demands, turning his head to look at me at last.

"I need to be here," I tell him, able to hear the defeat in my own voice. I look up, aware that he's still staring at me. The look on his face breaks me again and I let out a small whimper as my face crumples. His expression softens and he pulls back the covers, inviting me to climb in. He opens his arms and I crawl into them, sinking against him as he tightens them around me.

"Ok. If you're sure this is what's best for you, I'll go with it. This damn therapy better work, I hate to see you like this," he says. And I hope it does too, because I just want us to be able to enjoy one another again without my damned past casting its grey and suffocating shadow over us.

* * *

><p><strong>I just found out that I've had two nominations in the Fandom Choice Awards for Best Team Switzerland and Best Supporting Character for Riley :o). You have no idea how much this means to me and I would like to thank whoever nominated me for putting a huge grin on my face today :oD. Go and check out all of the nominations and vote for your favourites *bats eyelashes*<strong>


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight**

**Chapter 18**

The night before Riley is due to return to Seattle without me, I decide that we need to talk, mainly because so far neither one of us has really mentioned what happens now. Jake has gone out and we're sitting curled up together on the couch after dinner out with my dad. It doesn't help things that Riley and my dad get along so well. They'd met before at Christmas, but this time, now that they were both familiar to one another, they got along like a house on fire. It makes me feel a little guilty for what I know is coming next.

I sit up so Riley has to move his arm from around my shoulders. Angling myself toward him I sigh, preparing myself. Immediately a look of concern washes over his face as he studies me.

"What's up?" he asks, taking my hands in his and stroking them absent-mindedly.

"About what happens after today…" I begin, struggling to find the words to explain how I feel.

"I…go back to Seattle," he says hesitatingly.

"Yeah. And I stay here," I confirm.

"We both know that, there's no news there," he tells me with a small smile.

"I wanted to talk about _us_," I say.

"_Us_?" he asks. I drop my head, unable to look away from the alternating flashes of hope and the fear in his eyes.

"I don't think there can be any _us_, Riley. We'll be too far apart, the lifestyles are too different. I'm really not the right person for a long-distance relationship."

"It's three hours, Bella. That's _not _long-distance," he argues gently.

"It is to me. Jesus, I moved back here because of my trust issues, what kind of trust can I maintain when you're in Seattle and I'm back here in Forks?" I ask him. His knee is bouncing now – only slowly, but the movement is there, giving his frustration away.

"My contract ends in six months. I'll move closer." He's trying so hard he's not even meeting me half way; he's completely stepped over the line and walked right up to me.

"You don't have to do that—" I begin, but he cuts me off and stands up suddenly. This is the first time in the time I've known him that I've seen him show any kind of anger, the fire of it lighting his eyes up and making them flash with emotion.

"Well apparently I do, Bella, because you're not willing to try again in Seattle and I'm not willing to let you go. You really think I'll give up on us without a fight? Because I can tell you right now that I'm not going to. I love you and I'm going to fight damn hard for what we have, even if I have to drag you along with me."

My mouth is hanging open as I sit looking up at him in awe. He has one hand on his hip and one extended out towards me, that he lets drop to his side as I look on. His breathing is heavy from the adrenaline and his chest heaves up and down.

And then as my brain catches up with what just happened, I'm blindsided by the realization that I have someone willing to fight for me. Not give up when things start to get tough, but to actually fight through it until they come out the other side. And yet…

"I love you too, I _really_ do. So ask me again in six months and we'll try. But for now…I can't do the distance thing. I'm sorry, but I just can't." I'm not crying yet, but I feel the threat of tears in the lump at the back of my throat. Riley kneels down on the floor in front of me, eyes level with mine. He moves his face closer, until there are mere inches between us.

"Well I can. So I'm going to pretend we are. I'll prove it to you, Bella. I'll prove to you that you can trust me. I'm going to go back to Seattle and live as though I have a girlfriend only one hundred and fifty miles away. I'll come and see you whenever I can, and if that's just as a friend, then that's fine, I'll do that, but I'm not interested in anybody else in the meantime. And in six months, if you want me, I'll come here, and we'll pick up where we left off. But I'm not getting in my car tomorrow and driving away without having tried. Because that's a damn waste of something good, that most people never even come close to having a taste of."

He looks right into my eyes and if he's waiting for me to say something in reply, then he's going to be disappointed, because the only response he's going to get at this moment are my lips on his. This man – his words, his heart – they render me speechless, but I need to be as close to him as I can get right now, because nothing has ever touched me so deeply as that outpouring just did. This is what I need; somebody I can rely on, somebody to support me. I'm just so terrified that he'll break these promises and leave me more broken than before. But for now I try to push that to one side, because for now, he's still here.

The passion left over from his words has flowed into me and ignited something deep within. I pull him closer to me and he moves forward at the same time, nudging me slowly back until I'm lying on the couch and he's lowering himself on top of me.

Our clothes are hanging off us and we're panting when I pull away a little.

"We have to move, Jake could come home…" I protest, my words fading as his tongue does amazing things to one of my exposed nipples, thoroughly distracting me.

"Let him walk in on us…I don't care," Riley tells me, his breathing uneven and heavy as he returns to what he was doing. I really am going to insist on taking this to the bedroom, when he suddenly shifts up, pulls my underwear to one side and pushes himself inside of me.

"Holy fuck!" I gasp, arching my back and pressing my head into the cushion beneath it as the sensations threaten to overwhelm me. He stops when he's all the way inside. I open my eyes and look up at him and he's looking back at me, his bottom lip gripped between his teeth and his eyes hooded, yet almost animalistic. He slides slowly back until he's almost all the way out, and then he pushes himself roughly back in again, grunting in a way that hits me right where we're joined. I'm still concerned that Jake might come home, but the risk of getting caught adds excitement now we're this far gone.

Riley's all about putting me exactly where he wants me today, which is more than fine by me. By the time he's got me on my knees on the couch, leaning over the back, I'm just about done. I warn him of this and he groans loudly in encouragement as I clench around him, sending him over the edge too as we move together, until we gradually slow.

We're still trying to catch our breath and Riley's still behind me, forehead resting on my back and hands holding onto the couch either side of my body when the door opens.

Jake looks at us, his mouth open, his eyes wide, in fact much the same as I'm looking back at him. All three of us curse and Jake apologises before he slams the door closed, visibly flustered. I curse again, but then Riley rests his head on my shoulder and begins to laugh, which makes me laugh too. We manage to get ourselves dressed and to my room without seeing Jake. I'm not sure how I'll ever face him again.

Our good mood lasts for the rest of the evening, but by morning – the morning he's due to leave – the melancholy has descended over us both again.

I stand beside his car as he throws his bag onto the back seat, closes the door and then turns to me. He gathers me into his arms and holds me tightly against him.

"This isn't goodbye, Bella," he tells me. I wish I had his sense of conviction. I wonder again if I've done the right thing, but it's too late for that now. "I'll see you soon, ok?" I agree with him outwardly, but inwardly I'm erring on the side of caution. If he changes his mind at any point during the next six months, I refuse to be in a place that leaves me feeling devastated. To me, this has to be goodbye, anything less leaves too much on the line.

He's reluctant to leave me, I can tell by how the hug goes on, but eventually he lets out a deep sigh and loosens his hold. I stand back and he bends down, cupping my face as he softly kisses my mouth. His lips on mine don't affect me any less than they did the first time it happened. I feel like a teenager as I stand with the muscles in my legs slowly turning to jelly and my stomach doing somersaults. He pulls away and climbs into his car in one move. Almost as though he's afraid to take his time, he turns the key, puts it into drive and pulls away without anything more than a small wave. I don't stand and watch him disappear from sight; if I stop to think too much about it all, I have no idea what I'll do. Instead I step inside the front door just far enough to grab my jacket off the hook and then pull the front door closed as I leave to clear my head.

* * *

><p>I'm waiting for Alice to arrive at the coffee shop, when the door opens and Edward's mom walks in. Despite the promise that we'd stay in touch, that hasn't actually happened. Not that it's been deliberate; it's just one of those things I guess.<p>

I'm genuinely pleased to see her, and so when she comes over to my table and greets me with a hug, it takes a moment for me to realize that she's not alone. At her side is a small girl with light brown hair and friendly hazel eyes that watch me as she smiles at the interaction. Esme suddenly remembers the girl beside her and takes a step to the side to allow her in.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she says, appearing a little flustered. "Bella, this is Chelsea. She's Edward's..."

"Girlfriend," Chelsea cuts in, smiling pleasantly as she obviously tries to save Esme from the situation. "It's nice to meet you, Bella." I'm guessing Chelsea knows exactly who I am, as Esme doesn't offer a formal explanation.

"Yeah, you too," I tell her, although I'm not exactly sure how I _do_ feel about her at this moment. To be honest I think I'm more affected by the fact that she's out with my ex-mother-in-law than the fact she's Edward's girlfriend.

Alice chooses this moment to arrive, and I'm relieved until she greets Chelsea by name. Then I'm a little hurt that she'd never mentioned her to me. Her eyes dart a little nervously between the three of us for a moment before Esme makes a promise to get together to catch up soon, and ushers Chelsea away to the counter.

"You knew!" I accuse Alice in hushed tones as soon as they are out of earshot. She looks a little pained and holds up her hands in defence.

"I only just found out a couple of days ago," she says.

"Well they must have been together a while if she's out with his mom," I say, casting a glance in their direction again and smiling awkwardly when I find Chelsea watching me.

"A couple of months I think," Alice says.

"And he hadn't told Jasper?"

"Not a word. Jasper's a little upset by it, but I guess Edward had his reasons. I told Jasper he should respect that." I nod because, really, what else can I say? The waitress chooses this moment to take our order, allowing a change of conversational direction. "So," Alice says. "How are things with you? Is Forks everything you remembered?"

I giggle. "Oh yes, no changes here. Even down to being offered my old job back... only with a promotion!" I grin widely and Alice congratulates me.

"So you're definitely staying?"

"I am. It doesn't feel like I've taken a step back, more like I've taken a significant one forward now I'm settling back in. The place doesn't feel depressing like it did before I left. I guess I've witnessed the grass on the other side and it's definitely no greener."

"And how's life without Riley?" she asks. I was actually a little thrown by how much I _had _missed him in the twelve days that had passed since he left to go back to Seattle.

"It kind of sucks," I admit to her. "But I've survived worse and it was my choice, so I can hardly bitch about it." I don't tell her that I spent two days in my room crying after he left to go back to Seattle, until Jake finally staged an intervention to make sure I made it to my first therapy session.

"And how's therapy going?" Alice asks, as though she can read my mind.

"Really good, actually. I've seen Katie twice now and I feel as though we already made progress. It's a lot better than those relationship counselling sessions I went to for Edward when we first split. I think it was all too raw still then." Alice nods as she muses over my words.

"I guess that could be a valid point. You'll only know which wounds will scar you afterwards, right?"

"Yeah, that's a little how it seems," I tell her, honestly.

As the waitress brings our coffee, Esme and Chelsea are just collecting their take-out.

"Bye, Bella," Esme says as she passes the table. "We're going gift shopping for Edward's birthday!" She's smiling and I can tell she's excited and also totally oblivious to how her words caused me actual physical pain for a split second there. "I'll call you about getting together!" she tells me with a wave. Chelsea had been smiling too, but I notice that Esme's final words to me cause it to falter.

As soon as the door closes behind them I turn to Alice.

"They're gift shopping for his birthday. Together. That's serious, right?" I ask her. I know it is, and _I know_ I know because of the pain I felt when Esme said it.

"Oh, that's serious," she confirms. She takes a drink of her coffee and then pauses, looking closely at me. "You've gone pretty pale, Bella. Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I mean, I will be fine. I guess I'm just a little shaken at how much that all just bothered me then. I didn't think I'd care, but I kind of do."

"Of course you do, that's normal," Alice tries to reassure me. I'm not so sure. It's been so long since we broke up, is it really normal to feel like this so far down the line? I have no idea, but my heart is thumping and I'm feeling a little sick.

I remember thinking about this moment right at the beginning; it was one of the reasons that I didn't want to let him go, because I knew I'd struggle when he found somebody else. I wonder if it would still be so tough to deal with if I had Riley to go home to? I also wonder if it would be this hard if Riley found someone else?

"I think I'll go visit Riley this weekend," I say impulsively. Not only do I suddenly have the urge to be wrapped up in his arms, but I've now been reminded that it's Edward's birthday this weekend too, and for some reason I'm shaken by it and the last thing I want to be doing is sitting around picturing how he's spending it with his family and his _girlfriend_. And I wonder if I'm jealous of her having him, or of her having all of the Cullens.

"I thought you'd called it off with Riley?" Alice says, clearly confused.

"It's complicated," I tell her. Because it is. Because I've made it that way.

* * *

><p><strong>AN I'm helping to organise the Fandoms for Heroes fundraiser again this year and have signed up to write for it. We're still looking for more authors to sign up, the difference this year and from other fandom fundraisers is that this time there's no fanfiction – it's all going to be original fiction. So if you're a writer and would like a challenge, please consider coming and signing up for us! If you're not a writer then you can still help by spreading the word. Find out more at .com xx**


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer**

**Chapter 19**

My therapy session with Katie the week that I find out about Chelsea, is worth every cent. I actually walk out of her office feeling like a sane person after she talks me down from the almost-hysterical state I've managed to get myself into. She reassures me that it's normal for me to feel upset about Edward having somebody else, even if I was the one that ended things between us. She warned me that I'd probably feel it again if I actually see him with her, but after that initial shock that it will get better with time. The whole Riley situation runs a little deeper, with more issues that we'd begun to unpick during the previous two sessions, but I think the fact it was Riley that I wanted when I saw Chelsea, was a significant sign. So…I'm going to go with that and take the trip to Seattle this weekend.

Riley's more than a little taken aback when I call and tell him to expect me – in a good way though. He asks me more than once if I'm sure, and tells me more than once how excited he is to see me. And when I finally arrive at his place? Well, long-distance relationships _definitely_ have their advantages. The sex is desperate and mind-blowing and as we're frantically undressing one another just ten minutes after I walk through the door, I realize that there's no way I'll be able to keep this thing between us to friendship for the next six months, because behind my fear, I love him way too much.

I cry a little as I leave the next evening, but this time it's not as bad as it was when he left me in Forks, because there's actually a part of me that feels hopeful for whatever it is that we have.

It's only on the drive home that I realize that I didn't think about Edward's birthday once while I was with Riley. And I know that shouldn't be any kind of achievement, not when things are as they are and that's all by my own choice, but somehow it is. I let my mind wander as I drive, and I wonder if Chelsea knows the details of what went wrong between Edward and me; how much he has told her exactly. Not that it's any of my business, of course, no matter how much it feels like it should be. But the fact that it _isn't_…well, I'm surprised to find how little that thought actually affects me, and when I think a little more about it, I come to the conclusion that it's my relationship with Riley that gives me the security to be able to let all of the things that had an effect on me, go. And then it hits me. Surely you can't have security without trust? SO if I'm feeling secure with Riley then surely that means that I've begun to trust him. And even if that's only a small amount of trust, then it's still a damn good start.

I smile because I'm feeling proud of myself, firstly for being able to trust when I'd thought only a few weeks ago that I never would, and secondly for recognising it. And then I feel a bubble of pride rising for Riley, because I recognise how much he's put into this relationship and how, if I'd have had _my _way, I'd have completely destroyed what we have. But, Riley? Well he's been prepared to fight and refused to let me let go. And thank God he did, because it feels like we have something bigger and more promising ahead than I ever dreamt would be possible after what Edward did to me.

Riley is such a good soul and I sometimes find it hard to believe that nobody snapped him way before he met _me_. But while he says he did have girlfriends, he says he never felt the spark he felt when he saw me for the very first time and didn't really get the whole relationship thing the way he does since we met. I happen to believe that my guardian angel was watching and saving him just for me.

* * *

><p>I hadn't bumped into Edward in Forks since I moved back, but then the week after his birthday I'm grocery shopping in the Thriftway when I hear a voice behind me, greeting me by name. I know it's him even before I turn around, and I brace myself for seeing him for the first time in months. As I <em>do <em>turn though, I'm surprised and satisfied to discover that he has little effect on me at all. I'm more than a little mad at what I put myself through mentally when I saw Chelsea and Esme together, when seeing Edward himself is this much easier. Go figure.

"Hi," I greet him. "Did you have a good birthday?"

"It was ok," he tells me, tugging on the peak of the baseball cap nervously.

"As good as that?" I tease. He smiles and I take a deep breath. "I met Chelsea," I say tentatively. "She seems nice." I don't actually know if she seemed nice or not, but I figure I should acknowledge the meeting and it seems like the right thing to say. He frowns and pulls at his cap again.

"Ah, yeah…we just broke up, actually."

Awkward.

"Oh… I'm sorry," I tell him. I look as closely as I dare for clues as to how he's feeling.

"It's fine," he tells me, almost dismissively. "It's really not a big deal." Ouch. I feel a pang of something for Chelsea…sympathy? I wonder how she'd feel if she heard him say that. Regardless of his words though, his claims are irrelevant because, even though I may have had a wake-up call with Edward when he cheated on me with Angela and felt like I didn't know him all that well after all, I find that today he's so easy to read, he's practically transparent. He can protest all he likes that he's not feeling it, but I know that he is. It's in the way he's been tweaking his cap. It's in the shift of his feet, the hand that creeps into his pocket and then out again nearly straight away, and muscle that twitches in his jaw. It's in the set of his mouth, the way his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip and the restless flickering of his eyes.

I won't call him out on it though; not that he'd admit it if I did. Neither of us has anything to gain from it.

"How's life back in Forks?" he asks.

"It's good," I tell him. "I start back at the High School in the new semester. Richard Berty's finally retiring, so I bagged myself a promotion too, my timing couldn't have been better."

"Sounds positive," he tells me.

"How about you? Is everything ok at work?" I ask him. He pulls a face and I have a feeling I've struck a nerve.

"It's not so great. There's a rumor there'll be layoffs around Christmas." He looks despondent and I feel genuinely sorry for him. I know he's always loved his job. I haven't even had a chance to respond, when his eyes fix on something behind me and his face darkens slightly. A long arm reaches past me and places a large carton of milk in the cart. I turn to see Jake standing behind me. He's looking at Edward in much the same way that Edward is looking at him.

"Okaaay," I breathe out, hoping to neutralize the atmosphere a little. "Well, it was nice catching up with you, Edward," I tell him. "I'll see you around." I turn and grab Jake's arm, forcing him along with me as I hear Edward mutter a goodbye.

"What are you doing talking to that asshole?" Jake asks loudly when I know we're still in Edward's earshot. I roll my eyes.

"Who do you think's being the asshole now?" I ask him.

"Yeah, well I promised Riley I'd look out for you," he says as he pauses to peruse a shelf, before picking a jar up and placing it in the cart next to the milk. "I only left you for five minutes and he shows up." I smirk as I look up at my best friend.

"Well it was bound to happen sooner or later," I say. "Forks is hardly Seattle." Jake grumbles but I notice he doesn't wander off on his own again like he usually does; he sticks to my side and never lets me out of his sight. I see Edward a couple more times as we finish choosing groceries, but only from a distance and he's not looking in my direction.

I'm annoyed at myself for the way the news about him and Chelsea breaking up plays on my mind. I can't help but feel a little smug satisfaction about it, which in turn makes me feel like a terrible person, especially when he actually seemed unhappy. I guess I can't help but retain some of the bitterness that grew within me when he did what he did – even with all of the time that has lapsed and Riley in my life.

* * *

><p>Although she'd promised to, I didn't really expect Esme to get in touch after I'd seen her out with Chelsea, but true to her word she called me up the week after I ran into Edward.<p>

It's Friday lunchtime when I pull up outside Esme and Carlisle's house. As she lets me in through the large front door and I enter the hall, I find it strange to be somewhere that was once so familiar to me. Not a whole lot has changed, other than some of the decoration. I find myself in one of the many photographs that line the walls still, even though I notice there's a new frame containing a recent looking shot of Edward, where our wedding photo once hung.

Esme has prepared an amazing lunch for us, as she always did. As we eat, she apologises for putting me in an awkward position with Chelsea at the coffee shop. She confides that she panicked a little when she saw me and wasn't sure what to do. She didn't want to ignore me, but she couldn't _not _introduce me to Chelsea when the girl was standing right beside her. I feel for her as she tries her best to explain and apologise.

I don't think I'd appreciated until now, just how our divorce had affected Edward's parents. Esme doesn't talk about Edward too much, but I get the message loud and clear that she's done nothing but worry about him since we split up. She tells me how guarded he is these days, and how she only knew that he was dating Chelsea when she happened to call round to his place one day when they were both there. The shopping trip for his birthday was her way of trying to close the gap that had opened up between them a little and show him that she supported his choices. She has no idea why Edward broke things off, she said that Chelsea had given the impression that things were good between them, but he obviously thought otherwise.

Esme tells me that Carlisle and Edward's relationship remains strained. She's done her best to try and smooth things over, but Carlisle still struggles to accept what Edward did. Things are civil between them, but that's about as good as it gets.

And then she encourages me to talk about myself. I see a touch of sadness in her face as I tell her about Riley, but she says that she's thrilled that I've found somebody that makes me happy. I assure her that he does and she tells me I deserve it.

As I leave there are promises to do lunch again, but deep down I know that we won't; neither of us has anything to gain from it. Edward was what we had in common, but that link has gone. All we've actually done by examining the present, is rake up the past and remind ourselves exactly what we've been through and what we've lost.

As I say goodbye to my former mother-in-law, I feel like I'm closing another door on my past, which I guess means I'm another step closer to facing my future. I'm determined not to feel sad as I do this, but I allow myself a small dose of nerves; I'm in need of something to nudge me forwards.

* * *

><p>The summer break passes uneventfully and with frightening speed, punctuated by sweet weekends home and away with Riley. During a phone-call with Rose, Emmett comes on the line to tell me that he's been discussing marriage with Riley. My stomach flips and my heart sinks. I have no desire to take that particular trip with <em>anybody<em> in the foreseeable future.

_Been there, done that, got my fingers burned destroying the t-shirt._

I laugh in joyous relief when I realise he's referring to a marriage between Riley and _him _if the state of Washington decides to make gay marriage legal. I laugh harder as I hear Rosalie in the background cursing him out.

Jake has been the perfect room-mate, but soon after I've started back at work, his father falls ill and he moves back home to take care of him. I really miss the company around the place, but on the weekends that Riley visits me in Forks it's actually really nice to have some privacy at home. You know, the kind of privacy that means your boyfriend can actually bang you on the couch without you both having to face your room-mate while you're naked and post-orgasmic.

I haven't seen Edward around again since the day in the Thriftway, but I hear from Alice and Jasper that he's putting in extra hours at work to try and stave off being singled out for the dreaded layoffs. I know first-hand exactly how much of himself he ploughed into that place in the first place and I can imagine exactly what putting even more in has done to his work-life balance, not to mention his health. I hope it pays off for him.

I spend a lot of my spare time with Alice now I'm back in Forks. It's during dinner out with Jasper and Riley that she announces she's pregnant and due at Christmas. This causes much laughter around the table because her actual first name is Mary; she's just always used her middle name, Alice. Of course, we immediately refer to the baby as Baby Jesus, which I have a suspicion will stick for the duration of her pregnancy.

I have a tough week or two when Alice calls me after an appointment with her obstetrician, to tell me that she saw Angela in the waiting area, also pregnant and accompanied by a disgruntled and embarrassed looking Eric Yorkie. I delight and giggle as she tells me how they spent the whole time arguing and snarking at one another, but after I end the call I fall into a funk as I think about the poor child that she's about to bring into the car crash that her life seems to have become since she made the ludicrous decision to begin an affair with my husband. And even though it doesn't prey on my mind constantly, it pops up intermittently; just often enough to bring me down for a good few days. I can only be grateful for whatever good fortune prevented her from ever winding up pregnant with Edward's baby, because as strong as I've discovered I actually am, I definitely have doubts over whether I could have withstood that particular bombshell.

Returning to teaching at Forks High School is actually far more satisfying than I thought it would be. I'm head of the English department now, and my team are pretty awesome. A couple of the older and more traditional members of the department retired during the twelve months that I was in Seattle, and their replacements are younger with a greater enthusiasm and passion for their subject. The kids appreciate the changes, and the benefits show clearly in the performance stats that everyone's so obsessed with these days. It makes my job a hell of a lot easier to be running something that everybody is happy with.

When Riley comes to stay during the first weekend in October, I can tell that something's off. He's quiet and just seems a little unsettled. As we lie naked in bed, my legs snaked around his, he clears his throat and announces that he needs to talk to me about something. My heart immediately begins to beat more loudly in my chest, and I decide that if he's waited until after he's had sex with me to announce he wants to break things off, he'll be taking his testicles with him in a bag when he leaves.

"Liam's pressuring me to sign on for another twelve months at work," he says. My heart quits racing as it sinks slowly inside me. As much as I love the reunions, I'm not sure I want to do this whole long-distance thing for another year.

"Oh," I reply, unsure what else to add at this stage. He slides his arm out from beneath me and rolls so that he's lying on top of me, supporting his weight on his elbows as he smiles down at me, his face just inches above my own as his eyes search mine.

"So, what's it to be, Bella? Am I signing or am I moving to Forks?"

He'd mentioned moving here a few months previously, but I'd always kind of doubted that he would when it came down to it. He was a city boy, born and bred, and I didn't know if he'd really seriously consider leaving that behind for Forks. But for me, apparently, he will.

I'm suddenly aware that I haven't given him any kind of reply, as I lie staring up at him with my eyes open wide in surprise. I let out a quiet laugh of delight before I raise my head and crash my mouth onto his. He grunts in surprise, but responds nonetheless. We're both breathless when we break apart, but I see my own grin reflected on his face.

"Was that a vote for Forks?" he asks. I gaze up at him.

"Are you sure about this?" I'm suddenly hit by a wall of crazy fear that he might snatch the offer away again.

"I'm sure about you," he replies. "Everything else is irrelevant."

"I love you," I tell him, because, really, what other response is there to that?

"I love you too," he says as he kisses me. "So much."

"How long do I have to wait?" I ask him, suddenly impatient to be able to say goodbye to the goodbyes.

"I have seven weeks left on my contract," he says. "It's up at the beginning of December. I can be your Christmas gift." I smile wider.

"It's the _perfect_ gift," I tell him. "The only thing that could make it better is for a time machine to make the next seven weeks disappear."

"If I could do that for you I would," he says. "But I promise you, I'll be worth the wait." And then he proceeds to leave me with no doubts about that whatsoever.


	20. Chapter - Epilogue

**Chapter 20 ~ Epilogue**

**Eight weeks later…**

We're walking up the driveway to Alice and Jasper's front door, when I remember something and stop short.

"Damn it, I forgot to pick the gift bag up in the kitchen," I say with a sigh.

"No worries, I'll go home and get it," Riley tells me with a smile. "You go on in, I'll just be ten minutes." He's already pulling the car keys back out of his pocket, where his own key to our home now nestles on the key-ring too.

"Are you sure?" I ask, inwardly cursing my forgetfulness.

"Yeah, it's fine. I'll see you in ten." He bends down, kisses the top of my head and then jogs back to the car. I briefly smile after him before turning back and making my way to the front door.

I ignore the obnoxiously loud door bell, and instead raise my hand to knock gently on the wooden door, right next to where a festive Christmas door wreath hangs. Just as I'm wondering if it was loud enough to be heard and whether I should try again, there's a click of the lock turning and the door opens.

My eyes widen a little as I take in just how tiny the blanket-wrapped little person looks in the strong and capable masculine arms that cradle him.

"Hey," I say, a little choked with emotion at the scene. I step forward, into the hall and close the door quickly yet softly behind me to keep out the chill of the December air. Taking a step closer for a better look, I lean over the sleeping baby, just as he sighs deeply. I can't help but smile, and when I look up into Edward's face, I see that he's smiling too. "I wasn't expecting to see you here," I tell him as I unwind my scarf from around my neck and slip my coat off. I hang them up on the post at the bottom of the staircase and follow him through to the living room.

"Alice is taking a nap and Jasper had to run out for more diapers," he explains as he turns to face me. His whole demeanour is different to how I've ever seen him before. He seems relaxed and just…well, content, I guess. "Would you like to hold him?" he asks, nodding towards the baby.

"Yeah, I'd love to," I tell him. We walk towards one another, and stop when we get close. I bend my left arm to mimic the position of his right and lean in. He gently shifts the tiny body across across, pausing for a moment as the baby stirs slightly, but as I take him into my own arms, he stays fast asleep.

"Hey, Noah. Welcome to the world, little guy," I say softly, stroking his tiny hand with my finger as I sway gently from side to side. I look up at Edward and return the smile he's still wearing. "He's adorable," I tell him.

"He is," he agrees with a nod. "Can I get you a drink?" he asks, gesturing towards the kitchen.

"Juice would be great, thanks," I tell him as I settle myself in a large armchair. Edward's soon back with a glass of orange juice that he places on the small table beside me as I thank him. "So, when do you leave?" I ask. He looks directly at me as he turns to sit down on the couch.

"You heard, huh?" he says as he leans back.

"Yeah, Alice told me. I'm sorry about your job. What an opportunity though; it sounds great. First stop Europe, right?"

"A week in London and then on to Paris. I'm meeting Austin over there and he's going to join me for six weeks. We're not sure where we'll go yet."

"Austin Marks?" I ask, surprised at hearing the name. "I've not heard of him in years." Edward smiles.

"No, I hadn't either, but he added me on Facebook a few months back and we've been chatting ever since. It was Austin that suggested traveling when I found out I was being laid off at work. He's lived in France for three years now."

"Wow," I say, thinking how that didn't sound at all like the shy and slightly nerdy, yet friendly kid that we went to school with.

"So how long are you planning on being away?" I ask, glancing down at Noah as he makes a soft, almost snoring sound.

"I'm thinking six months, but if it's going well I might extend it. I'm trying not to make too many plans, the idea of just living day to day is pretty appealing."

"It sounds amazing," I tell him. And although it's not something that appeals to _me_, I think it will be good for him. "I never had you down as the travelling type," I say. "I used to struggle to get you beyond Port Angeles." I raise my eyebrows in challenge and he looks away, shaking his head as he laughs.

"Yeah, well I guess sometimes things happen that make you re-evaluate everything you did before," he tells me, and looking back at me, his laughter is gone and his remaining smile is tinged with sadness. I look at him for a moment before he appears a little uncomfortable. He shifts ever so slightly and clears his throat. "So, I hear that Riley moved in with you," he says. I feel the corners of my mouth tug upwards into an involuntary smile of my own.

"Yeah, he did," I tell him. Silence floats comfortably around us for a long moment. I risk a glance up at Edward. He looks…satisfied.

"You're happy," he says. Both of us know that there is no question in his words, it is quite simply a statement of fact.

"I am," I confirm. "Very."

"I'm glad," he tells me. And I believe him.

"Are _you_? Happy, I mean?" I ask, looking directly into his eyes. There's a flicker of something that I don't quite catch.

"I think I could be. Someday, maybe," he says.

"I hope you are," I tell him. And I mean it.

**The End.**


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